


Night Monkey Unmasked

by hockeylass



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternative Scene, Blood & Injury, Far From Home spoilers, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Whump, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2020-06-30 07:45:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 61,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19848691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hockeylass/pseuds/hockeylass
Summary: Had a prompt in the comments of my last fic.....“I was thinking, the same train scene, but when Peter climbs inside the train, his class (actually them, not illusions) is in the compartment. Cut to some angsty, whumpy, identity reveal-yness as Peter's trying deal with what just happened and trying to bring himself to go fix his mistake while his friends are helping. So its kinda like Happy, but instead of Happy it’s Peter's whole ass field trip group on the train that hit him. Idk, maybe Peter doesn't believe they're actually real at first?”——————-And it got me thinking. To make it happen it’s gonna veer off the FFH story quite a bit. We’re going to assume the illusion scene happened in Prague, and this isn’t a train to the Netherlands, it’s a train to Berlin. Let’s pretend that’s the next destination in the school trip! Hope you guys enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Creative_username1234](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creative_username1234/gifts).



So far, this trip had been a disaster. What sort of bad luck was it that in both destinations they’d been to so far, there’d been terrifying monsters and a guy with green lasers fighting them? Mind you, it was doing a great job for his livestream figures. Numbers had gone up about 400% and he was LOVING that kind of attention. In a way he was almost gutted the trip was now back on course and they were on the first train to Berlin.

Across the train carriage were Betty, Ned and MJ - Betty - like most of those on the trip - was snoozing, holding Ned’s hand, while Ned and MJ were talking in hushed tones. Ned looked pretty troubled, actually. Ah, it was probably nothing, he thought.. He opened his phone and filmed the latest snippet for today’s travel blog.

“Hey Flashmob, we’re here on a stupidly early train from Prague to Berlin now, can’t wait to get there and check out the party scene! And the hot chicks!” he said into the camera, before panning it round the carriage.

He was checking the video for a third time to make sure he was looking good enough for it to go out, when there was a distant, but still quite loud thud.

“Hey what was that?”

“Probably a bird strike, happens all the time with trains like this,” MJ said, flatly. “They have to clean the blood off every night.”

“Gross,” Flash said, thinking no more of it.

A minute or so later, he heard another thud, this time sounding closer. They were now deep inside a tunnel - surely bird strikes wouldn’t happen in here?

He watched MJ sit up slightly, head craning. She tapped Ned on the knee, and whispered again.

“What are you guys talking about?” Flash asked. He couldn’t help himself. 

“Uh...nothing,” Ned said, a nervous laugh. “Nothing important, just um...nothing.”

“Right-” another thud. Ok things were getting weird again. 

MJ got up and began to walk down the carriage, clearly agitated. Ned gently peeled Betty’s hand from his, and followed. Flash got his camera out - he wasn’t going to sit back and let them have all the fun. 

“Not now Flash,” MJ snapped. “Go sit down and take your stupid phone with you.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I said so.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” he protested. 

“I don’t care what you think, you’re sitting down,” MJ said, giving him a look that could have killed. Instantly he felt smaller. 

Suddenly, their argument was broken by the door of the carriage sliding open, and the pained cries of someone desperately grabbing for air. They turned around, and there was the Night Monkey.

He seemed to have no clue as to who was in front of him, the eye-pieces of his mask squeezed shut as he practically fell through the door. The noises he was making were disturbing to say the least, anguished cries mixed with a high pitched wheeze. Ned and MJ looked at him, frozen to the spot, horrified. 

From between the pair, Flash also watched, agape. It was like looking through a pane of glass, this stealth-suit clad superhero that he’d seen on the news not hours earlier, delirious and now clinging to life in front of him but somehow, unable to touch.

Night Monkey was crying, every breath accompanied by a howl of pain. He hit every seat on the way down, staggering from side to side, seemingly unable to hold himself up, before slumping by the window, and blindly pulling off his mask. Ned and MJ stopped breathing at that point. Shit. 

“What the…” Flash uttered. He’d have got his phone out but was too stunned to even move.

They watched as Peter collapsed in the seat, arching his back in agony and coughing weakly, before going limp and scarily silent. 

MJ raced to Peter’s side, trying without much luck to put the mask back on. It was too late.

“Penis Parker?” Flash said, face pale. “Is Night Monkey?”

Ned looked at him, panicked. “Flash you have to help us. It doesn’t matter who he is, he’s hurt.”

The reality of the situation suddenly hit him. Penis...Peter Parker, was laid in front of him looking close to death. He was pale, covered in cuts and bruises, arm draped across his ribs as if to hold them steady. And there was some kind of bullet hole in his chest. That thud...that couldn’t have been him, surely?

“The thud from earlier…” he said, absently.

“It couldn’t be,” MJ said, looking at their friend with worry. She gulped. “We need to get him out of here. Flash, check the next carriage, see if it’s empty.”

Flash did as he was told and came back quickly, reporting that the carriage was indeed empty. 

“Good,” she said. MJ was always to the point, never saying anything she didn’t need to. “Let’s move him. Flash take his armpits, I’ll take his legs. Ned you get the door. Be quick.”

The trio moved with precision and as quietly as they could, trying not to jostle the unconscious Peter and not to wake the rest of the Midtown gang.

“No one must know about this,” MJ said, looking intently at Flash. “I don’t care about your followers.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to get him into a comfortable position and then we are going to wait until he wakes up. We still have four hours until we get there.”

“And if he doesn’t wake up?” Ned said, upset.

“I don’t know.” 

\---------

They laid Peter down in the recovery position on the floor between two facing sets of four seats. Ned, MJ and Flash sat either side of him, watching his every wheezing breath.

“Do you think he’s punctured a lung or something? I read about that in my physics class once,” Flash said.

“No, he’d be completely unable to breathe if that happened,” Ned said. Silence befell the trio again. 

“I’m not going to lie, I’ve got a lot of questions,” Flash said, breaking it.

“Well you don’t get to ask them now Flash. Maybe later,” MJ snapped. She looked to Ned, jaw clenched. Clearly they knew everything, and it frustrated Flash more than anything that he wasn’t a member of whatever little club they’d formed. Flash went back to googling potential injuries from train strikes but he couldn’t find anything that wasn’t instant death. How was Peter lying here, breathing?

At that point, the train door swished open again. 

“Babe? You in here?” It was Betty.

Ned shot up, walking quickly toward her, blocking her view. “Yeah I’m here babe, just… watching some videos on my phone. Didn’t want to wake you.” He delicately booped the end of her nose with his finger.

“Somethings wrong, I can tell Ned,” she said. “Why is MJ with you? And Flash? What’s going on?”

She tried craning her neck over Ned’s shoulders. He moved every which way to try to stop her from finding out but in the end she just grabbed him by the waist and moved him aside. “Betty!” he called as she squeezed past and moved towards the seat and looked down.

“Oh my God!!!” She practically screamed, covering her mouth with shaking hands. “Peter? What happened?” She turned to Ned. “Babe?”

Ned took Betty by the shoulders and looked at her so deeply and intently she was transfixed. If he didn’t know better he’d say she was in a true state of shock. “I’ll explain everything later babe, but you’re now in this and we HAVE to keep this a secret. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Peter is hurt, bad, and we’re keeping an eye on him for now.”

“He’s supposed to be in Berlin already? Why is he here?”

“As I say, I’ll explain later. Please, just sit down here and help us come up with a plan.”

Betty looked at Peter and welled up, before sitting down and burying her head into Ned’s chest, as if to hide away from the sight in front of her.

Suddenly, the figure between them stirred. The heavy, pained breathing and coughing began again. All four teens sat up, looking at each other in panic.

“What’s going on?” Betty said, knowing there was no answer.

“Peter? Peter look at me,” MJ said, getting on her knees beside him. He looked at her, glassy-eyed, a small drunken smile on his face turned into a frown. A bloodied hand shakily reached up to his face, the realisation that he was not wearing his mask making him pant in panic.

“MJ...ahh.” he gasped, speaking the word almost too painful to verbalise. “Real?”

Real? What did that mean, she wondered. He wasn’t making sense. “Shhh, you’re OK, you’re safe. Do you know where you are?” She grabbed the hand that was still hovering absently above his face. “Squeeze my hand if you do.”

No squeeze came. He continued to look at her, or through her, she wasn’t sure. Ned and Flash both tried to provide some comfort by holding him steady on the ground, though when Flash put a hand on Peter’s knee, he flinched violently. The leg felt warm, the fabric wet. He lifted his hand to see it was smeared with red and he felt the nausea rise. 

“You’re on a train to Berlin, me and Ned are here. And...Flash and Betty are here.”

Peter’s eyes widened, his breath hitched through gritted teeth. More panic. “Real?”

“It’s OK, honestly it’s OK. They won’t tell anyone, will they?” she looked at Flash with that killer look again, emphasis on the last part of her sentence.

Peter slumped, unable to deal with the whole situation. His breath quickened again, breaths turning into pants and pained groans. His face screwed up in pain, the sweat that had been sheening his skin since collapsing in the carriage now full on drips down his nose and temple.

He squeezed out the word “Happy” before passing out again.

MJ let out a breath she didn’t know was holding, and tenderly put her hand through Peter’s sweat-drenched hair. 

“Flash I need your phone,” Ned said, with a rare authority Flash hadn’t seen in him before. “Give it to me now. Unlocked. You have whatsapp?”

He knew better than to argue with these two. And maybe complying would help him get into this club…

Handing the phone over, Ned frantically dialled through the encrypted app.

“Happy, it’s me, Ned…” Ned ran a hand through his hair. “It’s Peter, I need your help. Yeah, we’re on a train to Berlin. Peter’s...he’s been hurt. It’s bad, yeah. Can you meet us? We’ll be in Berlin in three and a half hours. You can make it? Oh thank God.”

MJ, Flash and Betty watched as Ned made notes on his own phone, taking instruction on how to move him without anyone noticing and get him to Happy’s jet. 

“Thanks Mr Hogan,” Ned concluded. “We’ll see you soon.”

“OK so Happy has a plan…”

“Who’s Happy? What kind of a name is that?” Flash asked.

“Says the kid who likes to call himself Flash,” MJ said. “I dunno, clearly Ned knows him and Peter does too.”

“Happy used to pick Peter up from school for the internship,” Ned said. Flash nodded. So the internship was real then? Hmm…

“As I said he has a plan. I already told the teachers Peter had gone on to Berlin to see family, so the class cannot know he’s here. Flash, we need your suitcase. It’s the only one big enough to fit Peter in to get him to Happy without anyone seeing.”

“What?” Flash was incredulous

“Well how else are we going to do it? Got any better ideas?” Ned said. 

“But where am I going to put my stuff?”

MJ stared him down. “I don’t care.”

“I have lots of room in my case and an extra packaway duffle in my case that I brought for souvenirs,” Betty said. “That OK?”

Flash rubbed the sweat off his palms on his jeans. “OK, OK. Let’s do this. I’ll go get the cases now and take my stuff out. We still have a while before we get to Berlin. We need to make sure no one suspects, right?”

“Right,” MJ and Ned said in unison. 

“You go back and stay back until maybe half an hour before we get to Berlin,” MJ said to both Flash and Betty. “And you Ned. Tell them I have a migraine and need to be alone. No disturbances. Tell them you’ll come get me in two hours. Anything changes with Peter I will text you on whatsapp, something random, because I don’t trust that our phones aren’t being tracked. Mysterio has EDITH, it might be able to get through the encryption.”

“But you just called that Happy guy!” Flash said.

“He won’t think to track you,” Ned said. “You’re not an FOS.”

Flash furrowed his eyebrows. “No point asking what that is, is it?”

“No.”

\----------

MJ sat alone in the carriage, watching Peter intently. She’d been watching him for so long, really. 

There was something about him, something she really liked, had always liked. She’d liked him from their first days at Midtown, when he wore his glasses and sat out gym because of his asthma, she felt a sense of protectiveness back then. But she would never show it, that would mean admitting she liked someone and that wasn’t in her nature.

When he didn’t come into school for a week through sickness, she didn’t really think anything of it. His health was generally so poor he often took days off here and there. But then he came back, and he looked different. He looked better, like really better. The glasses were off, he seemed...stronger in his overall look. He stood a little taller, less hunched, walked with a spring in his step, started doing some stuff in gym class instead of sitting it out all the time. She couldn’t help but notice the changes, even if other people hadn’t. She wasn’t obsessed, she was just observant. 

Before the blip she noticed even more things changing with her classmate. And, coincidentally those changes seemed to happen at the same time a new superhero had hit town. He was always in Queens. But then, when she was in Washington, so was he. She often wondered if he was Spider-Man but then she dismissed it. It couldn’t possibly be the case, could it?

After the blip, he was really different. Everyone was affected but with Peter, it seemed amplified. More subdued, although he always painted a smile on for her. It was when he didn’t think she was looking that she noticed it. Sometimes she’d see him stare into the distance, eyes glassing up with tears, biting his lip - that usually happened every time someone mentioned Iron Man. Sometimes small things would make him jump, and sometimes he’d look like he’d hadn’t slept in days. He seemed…troubled. She just wanted to hug him, and make whatever was troubling him go away. She wanted to make him feel better. The sense of protectiveness she’d always felt remained, but now it was bolstered by care and, dare she think, love.

Now, knowing what she knows, and watching him lying on the train carriage floor, pale, battered and bruised, her heart ached. She liked him so much, and he was suffering. And there was nothing she could do about it. She kneeled beside him, and - as if going to touch something extremely fragile - put her hand on his head, stroking his hair with the most delicate touch she could muster.

It didn’t seem to make much difference. She checked his pulse, which was strong but a bit fast, and his forehead for a temperature and found him to be quite warm but not alarmingly so. 

Suddenly the doors of the carriage opened. Ned stood there with Flash’s case, a four wheeler designer number that carried about 100litres. “He’ll fit in, right?”

“We’ll have to try, haven’t got much else hope have we?” MJ said, patting Peter’s cheek. “Peter you’ve got to wake up.”

The teen didn’t move, didn’t budge. 

“God I hope he doesn’t wake up while he’s in there.”

They laid the case down and unzipped the front panel, and carefully lifted him into it. Being unconscious made moving him tough and easy in equal measure. Tough because he was a dead weight, and easy because once in the case, he was limber enough to be moulded into the tight space. Blissfully, he was unaware of the entire process. As the train announcer signalled the train’s imminent arrival in the station, MJ reluctantly zipped up the case. “I’m sorry Peter. Won’t be long, promise.”

Ned and MJ managed to get the case upright, being careful not to be too rough with it, and both lifted it off the train. MJ put some sunglasses on and roughed up her hair, to make it look like the migraine was still in full force and she’d not long woken. She and Ned stuck together close at the rear of the group, Flash and Betty joining them.

“He fit in then?” Flash said.

“Yeah just about, just hope we haven’t made his injuries any worse,” Ned muttered. “Go, Flash, do your vlogging and stuff, be normal, be you.”

Flash got his phone out and played the game. “Guten Morgen Flashmob, we are in Berlin right now! I got my buddy, Ned, takin’ my case so I am free to roam baby!” He snuck a quick knowing wink at the pair and ran off ahead of the group, maintaining the facade.

From the corner of MJ’s eye, she saw a tall burly man in black suit and tie standing by the coffee stall. He was looking directly at them. “Ned is that him?”

Ned, with Betty naturally in tow, immediately diverted off with the case, MJ followed.

“He’s in there?” Happy said, a sense of urgency in his voice.

“Yeah and as far as I can tell, still out,” MJ said. “You’ll look after him, won’t you?”

“Course.” Happy eyed the blonde girl with suspicion, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Babe, I’m going to go join the class now,” Betty said, eyes darting between Happy and the case. “Don’t be long,” said, walking away solemnly.

“Does she know?” Happy asked Ned. He turned to face MJ “Do you?” 

“I worked it out, but he told me last night. I found a piece of metal that flung off the fire monster and showed him and...yeah he told me he’s Spiderman,” MJ said. “Kinda wish he wasn’t though.”

“Betty found us on the train,” Ned added. “She just thinks he’s Night Monkey for now. We’ve told her nothing. But it’s ok they’re sworn to secrecy and I trust her.” Happy looked sceptical.

“I don’t know what happened,” MJ continued. “But he kept saying ‘real’, like as a question, when he was awake. He was going to tell Fury that Mysterio is a fake, he was going to catch him before they went to Europol, he left the hotel with the projector I found as evidence at dawn. And then he’s on our train like… well you’ll see when you get him out the case.”

“OK, so the guy who’s been on the news is a fake?” Happy said. “And you think it’s him who’s hurt him?”

“I don’t know. But I think he got hit by our train.”

“WHAT? Shit, how is he even alive?”

“I don’t know but if you don’t help him soon I’m not sure he’ll be alive much longer,” MJ said ashen-faced. “Go, and be quick. If Mysterio is after him, then he won’t be far behind. We’ll go rejoin the trip, keep us posted.”

“Course I will kid. Ned, keep your phone handy, I have your number.”

“Send it in code, he could be tracking,” Ned warned.

Suddenly, as they were about to say their goodbyes, they heard from across the concourse the groan of the class trip. Another groan. Another diversion. Flash ran over to the trio. “We’re going to London.”


	2. Mates on a plane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I wrote another chapter!! Continuing this Far From Home AU and Team FOS spring to action...

The last four hours had to be the weirdest of his life.

None of it made any sense whatsoever and why would NO ONE answer his many questions? And now they were going to London, when they’d just arrived in Berlin? This was mental, just mental. 

There was only one thing for it. Lie. Lie through his teeth to find out what he needed to. 

Flash ran back to the group. “Uh Mr Harrington, I’m sorry if this is against school rules but I am done with all these changes, I’m sorry but I didn’t pay out all this money to go on a trip I didn’t want. I’ve just called my dad and he’s arranged for a private jet to collect me later today. I’m sticking around here for a bit and then I’m going home.”

“Well I can’t just leave you here on your own Thompson,” Mr Harrington said, panic in his eyes. Flash looked across at Happy, Ned and MJ, then across to Betty, nodding as if to say, ‘get with my plan’. 

“I will stay with him,” Betty said, nervously. “I mean, I would like to stay too. I’m sure my parents won’t mind me travelling home by private jet either, they’re pretty worried and won’t be happy with another itinerary change.” She looked over to Ned, caught his attention and summoned him over. He scuttled over, unable to hide his worry, glancing over his shoulder at an increasingly agitated Happy. 

“Babe, Flash is going to get a private jet and go home from here later today,” she said, nodding at him knowingly. _Get with the plan_. “And Mr Harrington here won’t let him stay alone. I said I’d stay with him, would you?” Another nod. 

“Uh, yeah yeah I’ll stay. Totally I’ll stay. And I bet MJ would too. We, uh, we’ll keep Flash from doing anything stupid - plus my mum wants me home to be honest. It’ll make her happy if I take the jet with Flash.”

MJ came over, looking nonchalant with a cup of tea hastily bought from the coffee stand. Happy was still stood beside it.

“What’s up?” 

“Well Flash’s dad has a private jet picking him up later, to bring him home. He doesn’t want to go to London,” Betty said. She hoped MJ would quickly pick up on the plan. “Mr Harrington doesn’t want us to split but me and Ned said we would stay and leave from here too, and we reckoned you might?” She winked.

“Sure, why not?” MJ said, totally playing along. “AcaDec captain can lead the way.”

“Sir, I can get my father on the phone if you want?” Flash said, ready to dial.

Mr Harrington floundered, as he always did in moments of crisis. “The plane is on its way already Mr Harrington. You go to London, I might change my mind and see you there, but right now I’m not getting on another train if you paid me a million dollars.” 

Mr Dell tapped his watch. “Our train is in five minutes. Come on kids, lets go!”

“Ugh…. ok ok Thompson. I want updates on where you are at all times. If I don’t hear from you on the hour I will call the police, do you hear me?” Mr Harrington said. 

“Of course sir!” _Oh my god, the plan worked!_

The rest of the group walked back into the terminal, looking back in the direction of Flash, Ned, Betty and MJ with confusion and, Flash detected, the tiniest hint of jealousy, which pleased him greatly. Brad looked particularly perplexed but was ushered on by Zack. 

“So, we go with the suit guy,” Flash said.

“His name is Happy,” Ned said. “We need to make sure Peter is OK.”

The group returned to Happy, still waiting but looking ever anxious. “No movement inside the case?” MJ said. 

“No.”

“Where is the jet?”

“On the helipad next to the car park, I got clearance.”

“Well then, let’s go. We need to get him out of there.” And with that, MJ ran as fast as her legs would take her.

\------------------------

He’d flown first class many times in his life, but this was actually the first time he’d seen a private jet up close. It was so...shiny, with Stark Industries emblazoned on the side. If it had been any other day he’d have vlogged the heck out of it, showing off to his followers about the top speed and all the luxury bells and whistles. 

Today was different. 

He stood, rooted to the spot while Ned, MJ and Betty tried to manhandle the case up the narrow steps of the jet, trying to do it as quickly as possible so as to avoid any suspicion.

“Flash, could use a hand here!” MJ shouted, snapping the boy out of his reverie.

He rushed over to the bottom of the steps and gave the case the extra shove it needed to push it into the jet entirely. Happy was already at the controls, preparing for take off, and as the jet door closed behind the four schoolchildren and the case, it began lifting off the ground.

“Get in your seats and buckle up!” Happy shouted.

“What about Peter?” MJ said over the noise.

“He’ll be OK, it’s just for a minute,” Happy said as the plane lifted vertically before banking off to the right, the case sliding across the floor and hitting the cabin wall. Happy heard the thud. “He’ll be OK!” he reiterated.

The case begged to differ. MJ heard a muffled sound from within and before she had time to get out of her seat and to Peter’s rescue, the case burst open, Peter’s brute strength ripping the fabric apart. He leaped up, unsteadily staggering back into the corner by the door, both arms outstretched in front of him. He looked terrified. 

“MJ? Is that you?”

“Course it’s me. Peter you have to calm down, look at me OK?”

Peter looked like a caged animal, ready to leap into action in a nanosecond’s notice. He was incredibly pale, red-rimmed eyes and a blue tinge to his lips that told MJ he needed oxygen. He was still wheezing, and was favouring his left leg massively. 

His eyes darted between MJ and the rest of the people staring back at him. Happy approached slowly from the cockpit.

“Peter, it’s me, it’s Happy,” he said, attempting to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Peter flinched away as if the bodyguard’s hand was made of acid. 

He continued to scan the space, the people, hands still outstretched. “MJ… tell me something only you would know.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Just do it!” he shouted. He was scaring her. To be honest, he was scaring everyone.

“Uh...ok...um, I know you don’t like pineapple on your pizza, that you pretend not to be very good at gym class. I know that you had a weird plan for this trip about collecting spoons, you ditched band camp, that you eat twice as much as Ned does and don’t put on any weight…”

Peter’s arms lowered slowly and shakily. “Ok...ok…”

He limped heavily forward, collapsing into MJ’s arms. She had no hesitation in returning the hug. “It’s so good to see you,” he said, slumping.

“Peter you gotta tell us what’s going on,” Flash said, as MJ helped Peter to a seat. Immediately, Ned and Betty raced to Peter’s side, bringing a blanket and a glass of water. He tried to hold the glass but his hands were shaking so much that Betty ended up holding it for him, helping him drink with a care she’d never shown Peter before. Meanwhile, MJ and Happy dug out the plane’s medical kit and began to sort through what might be needed to try to treat Peter’s extensive injuries.

“Peter can you tell us what happened,” Ned said, examining the pained face of his best friend. “Dude you’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry, Ned,” Peter said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. “It was Beck...he tricked me. None of it was real, Ned, but it felt...so real… the illusions weren’t real and he threw MJ off the Eiffel Tower and he threw me out of a building and Mr Stark was there...and…” Peter’s breath hitched, trying to hold back an inevitable flood of tears. All Ned could do was place a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s all OK now, it really is. We are all here, and we’re going to help you. He’s gone, right, you got Beck?”

“No…” suddenly Peter’s head snapped up. “Wait, where is the rest of the class? Where are we going? I have to stop him. He knows you know!”

“Wait, what does he know? How?” MJ said, unwrapping a suture kit and some surgical wipes. 

“I told him. He...he made himself look like Fury and asked who knew about me and the illusion tech and I told him, he tricked me!” Peter grabbed his hair with his hands. “How could I be so stupid? I gave him EDITH, the only thing Stark left for me, because I trusted him and now he’s going to kill you and half of Europe!”

“So the class is going to London because that’s where Beck will be?” Flash said, confused as to what EDITH was but choosing not to agitate Peter any further.

“London? Right we have to go there. I have to stop him.” Peter tried to get up but his leg stopped him and he slumped back in his seat, hissing in pain.

“You can hardly stop him the state you’re in Peter,” Betty said. “We need to try to patch you up. Will you let us do that?”

“Kid, you look like shit. If you’re going to do this, and I have no doubt you will, you have to let us help you,” Happy said. “You gotta relax -”

“How can I relax, Happy? The world is looking for the next Iron Man, and I am not it. I thought Beck was it, and now he’s got a global missile system in his hands. You’re all in danger.”

“And we would be no matter whether we were here helping you, or with the rest of the class. We’re stronger together Peter,” MJ said, wisdom defying her young years. “We’ll help, OK? Let us help. We can fix this.”

“And kid,” Happy said. “You’re not Iron Man, you’re never going to be Iron Man. Nobody could live up to Tony, not even Tony. Tony was my best friend, and he was a mess. He second-guessed everything, he was all over the place. The one thing that he didn’t second-guess was picking you. I don’t think Tony would have done what he did, if he didn’t think you were going to be here after he was gone.”

Peter cried. But at least he was not alone.

\-----------

Happy programmed the jet’s autopilot to reach London within two hours, hoping that was enough time for Peter to heal sufficiently for the inevitable fight ahead. 

Exhaustion had got the better of Peter, and the group lifted him onto the one small bed the jet had, which presumably Tony Stark had used when on his many business trips, Flash figured.. 

“We need to get this suit off him, see what we’re dealing with,” Happy said. “Any of you squeamish?” Betty nodded and MJ joined her, making a coffee for everyone and trying to find Peter some clean clothes from his battered old case. MJ noted the insignia on it, BFP, and wondered what it stood for.

It fell to Happy, Ned and Flash to carefully remove the suit, first the boots and bullet-proof jacket, before taking off the pants and top. 

“Jesus, he’s ripped,” Flash said. Penis Parker continued to surprise him.

What was more shocking though was the bruising. The whole of his right side was a patchwork of dark red mottling, black, blue, purple, green and yellow, intermingled with seeping gashes and wounds. Worse though was his thigh, which looked like it had been bashed with a meat cleaver. It was hot to touch, bleeding all over as though he’d been dragged high speed along a highway. “Is it broken?”

“Quite possibly,” Happy said, sombrely. 

“Yeah...it is,” Peter mumbled, as he came round. “Can feel it knitting. Hurts.”

“Ok buddy, we’ll get you fixed OK. I have some of your meds here, do you want them?”

“Mmmm….IV.”

Happy rubbed his hands on his thighs. “Anyone here good with needles?”

“I did some in my biology class,” Flash volunteered. “What does he need?”

Happy directed him to where MJ was sitting and the med kit. “Bottom drawer of the box you’ll find everything you need. Saline and the drug are in the cupboard below.”

“What drug is it? There’s a few here,” Flash said, putting on some surgical gloves. “Oh, found it, the one with Spider-Man written on the side.”

Betty looked up, looked at Ned. “Spider-Man? But you said he was the Night Monkey?”

“Babe, I lied. Spider-Man IS Night Monkey.” 

“Oh…”

Flash put his nerves to one side, he was helping Penis….Spider-Man. The hero who inspired him to be a better man. And now he had a chance to be a better man. No pressure…

He breathed steadily as, for the first time, he inserted a cannula into the crook of Peter’s elbow, proud that he hit a vein the first time. He injected the drug in, flushed the cannula and then connected the saline bag, hooking it on the coat hook on the cabin wall, and watched as Peter almost instantly relaxed. 

“You did good, kid,” Happy said, who was already preparing to stitch up the deeper wounds on Peter’s torso and shoulders. MJ was helping, cleaning each of the wounds to prepare them for Happy. 

Meanwhile, Ned was hugging a pale and clearly shocked Betty, who wasn’t taking the events of the day, and the knowledge of Peter’s double life, very well at all. 

“Train…” Peter mumbled, with a drunken smile. “Trains hurt.”

“So you were hit by our train?” Flash said. “That’s insane.”

“Mmmmm….insane,” Peter giggled. 

“Don’t worry, he’ll have burned through the drug within an hour. Just buys us some time to take care of him before he goes off doing his thing again,” Happy said with a hint of defeat in his voice.

Happy and MJ worked quickly, stitching and bandaging as best they could, and hooking him up with some oxygen to help with his healing. Within 20 minutes they were done, draping a blanket over him and leaving him to sleep.

For the first time in a long time, the group were in silence. 

“Ok now would be a good time to tell us what the hell is going on with Peter,” Flash said. “What do you all know, how, why, when? This is crazy.”

“You’re not recording this are you? Cause if you are…” Happy sighed. “I don’t know much about how Peter obtained his powers but I believe he got them in the Autumn of 2015.”

“Peter had a week off sick, I remember it,” MJ said. “Yeah he was really bad, they almost took him to hospital,” Ned added.

“Right. Well, it’s not for me to tell his whole story but his powers include super strength, speed, enhanced senses and accelerated healing. He’s also sticky. It’s how he climbs walls and stuff.”

“What about the swinging, the webs?” Flash couldn’t help but ask. “That doesn’t...come out of him, does it?”

“He has web-shooters for that, he made the formula himself.”

“Dude...that’s nuts,” Flash said. 

“Indeed. Anyway he was taken on as an intern at Stark Industries under the mentorship of Tony Stark, not only to become a better Spider-Man but mainly to become a better engineer and scientist. They were very close.”

“Ms’tr St’k,” Peter mumbled from his bed, half-lidded and drugged eyes searching for the man on hearing his name. “T’ny??”

Happy’s heart sank and he went to sit beside the boy, gripping his shoulder. “Hey Pete, he’s not here, is he? I’m sorry bud.”

He watched as a single tear escaped the corner of his eye. “Right…”

“He’s watching though kid. Don’t forget that. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you in another half an hour, OK?”

“Need...a suit.”

“I know, and I can make that happen. It won’t take long to make either. Don’t worry OK, we got this covered.”

He watched the boy’s shoulders relax and soon, he was sleeping again.

“Sleep is best for him, it helps his body heal quicker,” Happy explained. “Once he got trapped under a building. He slept for two days after that and woke up feeling 100%.”

“Homecoming?” Ned said. 

“Yup.” Happy said, accentuating the P.

The realisation of who Peter was, and what he did, hit MJ, Betty and Flash like the same train that struck Peter - head on.

“Holy shit...he saved us at Washington,” Flash said.

“The plane crash at Coney. Liz’s dad…”Betty added.

“The attack on New York… the snap,” MJ said. “Where was he when the snap happened?”

“A planet called Titan. He had been beamed onto an alien ship trying to prevent Doctor Strange from being captured. Tony was furious with him for stowing away on the ship when he’d tried to send him home. Tony told me what happened on that planet. How he and Peter almost took the gauntlet from Thanos, how they lost. Tony almost died that day. A woman called Captain Marvel found his ship drifting in space 22 days later. He was in a terrible state. But all he cared about was the fact he didn’t bring Peter home with him.”

“How did the Avengers bring everyone back?” Flash asked. “At school they talk about the battle at the compound.”

“It’s a really long story but after the snap, Thanos destroyed the one thing that could bring everyone back. So, I’m not even kidding when I say this, and you must swear you never tell anyone-” the group nodded intently. “But it was time travel. Ant-Man had been working in the quantum realm when the snap happened, and by chance he was rocketed back into our world five years later but for him, it was five hours. Tony developed the formula to control time within the quantum realm. It’s all above my head but Tony told me it was Peter that made him work out the formula to go back and get what was needed to reverse the snap. Saving the world was the outcome, but bringing back Peter was for him, the sole aim.”

“Woah…” Flash said, stunned. “I heard rumours of these things called Infinity Stones, is that what they needed?”

“Yes. But as I say, you must NEVER tell anyone about this. It’s imperative.”

“We promise. What happens on the jet, stays on the jet,” Flash joked, immediately realising that probably wasn’t the most appropriate thing to say.

“But, Mr Stark died on the day everyone blipped back?” Betty said, bringing the conversation back.

“Yes. There was a huge battle at the compound which you know about. Doctor Strange portalled every superhero across the world to join them at the site to take on Thanos’ army, including Peter. Tony snapped again to bring you all back, even though he knew it would kill him.”

“So Peter was there, at that battle? Please tell me Tony saw Peter before he did that,” MJ said. She wasn’t the crying type but watching Peter recovering across from her, and hearing what Happy was saying, was pushing her close to tears.

“They did, yes. Peter was at the battle, right to the end. He sustained a lot of blast injuries but he was very brave, they all were. I saw him for the first time properly at Tony’s funeral and we talked things through. Pete told me they saw each other very briefly on the battlefield and they embraced. He was also present at Tony’s death. He had a chance to say goodbye.”

“He’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders,” Flash said. “And I never realised. And I bullied him.”

“Yeah, you did. How does that feel?” MJ said, coldly. 

“Shit,” Flash was getting tearful now, his body, brain and heart racked with remorse. “He’s never going to forgive me, is he?”

“That’s the thing about Peter. He already has,” MJ said. “Everything you see in Spider-Man? That’s Peter Parker.”

“S’OK,” Peter said, awake again.

“Pete you got to sleep,” Happy said, concern etched on his face. “You’re not well.”

“No, I gotta get ready to take down Beck,” he huffed, sitting up gingerly. “I’ll sleep later, promise.”

“Peter. I’m so sorry,” Flash said, jumping up to offer a supportive hand to Peter’s back.

“Honestly it’s OK,” Peter said. “But if you could get me some food and take this IV out I’d be better.”

“Whatever you need Pete. I promise, I am going to do everything I can to help you. Today, tomorrow, whenever. I’m not going to let you down.”

“Me neither,” Betty said.

“Or me,” MJ said with a knowing smile.

“Always gonna be the Guy in the Chair, you know how we do,” Ned said in his inimitable style, making Peter chuckle. “We the FOS squad. Friends of Spider-Man. No going back now.”

The group all looked at one another, and then at Peter. They were going to win.

“But I need a suit.”

“Suit?” Happy said, pressing a button to reveal the lab. “You take care of the suit, I’ll take care of the music.”

It was time to get to work.


	3. Suit up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy!

OK, there was no other way to say it. This day had gone from weird to downright INSANE. He’s sitting on a private plane, with his classmates and a sweaty guy in a suit, on his way to London to help Night Monkey...no, Spider-Man - Peter frickin’ Parker!! - defeat a villain masquerading as a hero hell bent on creating an Avengers-level threat using killer drones. Totally normal, right?.

He’s buckled up in an orange leather seat sipping an orange juice, opposite Ned and Betty, who is now asleep. She’s an emotional one, Flash concludes, and this day has had one heck of an effect on her. Ned looks tired and worried. 

“So...Leeds. How long have you known?”

“A while. Found out about a week before Homecoming.”

“How did you not tell anyone, cause I gotta be honest, I’d tell EVERYONE.”

“Course you would Flash. That’s what friends do, right?”

Flash sits on those words and looks beyond the classmate in front of him to watch Parker. Parker, who had been stood in a T-shirt and boxer shorts next to MJ in the lab for the last 15 minutes. Yes, there’s a lab on the plane and it’s like something out of a movie. It’s all black and there’s holographs and nano-tech and some next-level 3D printing thing going on. Peter has his hand on a sort of palm reader, Flash guesses. MJ is getting tools and data for Peter while he selects what he needs. Apparently there’s taser webs? And he’s increasing the voltage by 25%? Flash nods his head in disbelief. This is insane. Insane.

“What are you doing Parker?” he asks, unbuckling his seat belt and wandering over, too curious not to ask and try to muscle in on the action. He’s watching the boy he thought he knew to be weak - a target - do things he’d only ever read about in books about Tony Stark’s life at school. Peter looks over to him, still pale and looking like he needs a hospital but there’s a steely determination in his eyes he’s not seen before. “Just configuring what I need with this suit. These are the different ones Mr Stark and I designed,” he says, gesturing to the different outfits - there’s two Flash recognises and two he doesn’t. As Spider-Man’s number one fan, this is beyond his wildest dreams. 

“They all do different things?”

“Not really, they all have the same configurations and AI, but they have varying levels of protection. This one” - he points to one he’s not seen before - “was one we were working on before the snap. It was going to be for cold weather. I can’t thermoregulate, so…” Flash can’t help but notice MJ’s reaction to Peter’s words, clearly this was new information to her as well.

“That’s why you wear way too many layers in winter?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says almost sheepishly, as if it was something he’d done wrong. “Hypothermia is not fun.” Flash sees from Peter’s expression that he’s speaking from far too much experience.

“Anyway, this suit,” Peter winces as he tries to accidentally shifts too much weight onto his injured leg. “Is going to be like my usual one but with some extra reinforcements.”

“Cool….” Flash hovers. “Dude...are you going to be OK?”

“Yeah, I mean I have a plan. Happy and I worked it out, it’s going to be fine.”

“I know you have a plan Parker, but you got hit by a train.”

“Yeah...and I can very much still feel that, thanks for pointing it out.” Peter bows his head. “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap.”

“He’s going to do it anyway,” MJ says. “We may as well help him.”

“Oh yeah I know that, as we said before, FOS squad. So…” Flash claps his hands together. “What can I do?”

There’s 45 minutes until landing, and Flash spends that time basically running around after Peter’s every need that’s not to do with the suit - mainly making coffee. He also remembers to message Mr Harrington, and tells him they will be in London later to meet with the group, but he doesn’t say anything more specific than that. 

Meanwhile, MJ continues to try to put her feelings for Peter aside to be his right hand woman in the lab. It’s been a tough few hours for her, but she’s not about to show it. She just hopes that by supporting Peter at this time, she’ll be able to show him that she does care about him, that she wasn’t just watching him because she thought he was Spider-Man. God, she wished she hadn’t lied. She might have been able to hug him at this point, maybe even kiss him but now, all she could do was carry on watching. 

“Could you, er, get the smallest set of pliers from the top drawer over there please?” Peter asks, avoiding eye contact. 

“Sure,” she says, retrieving the item and handing it to him.

“Thanks.” Peter leans heavily on the workbench, trying to focus on the mechanism of the web-shooters he’s about to install into the suit. She watches as his hands, still shaking (probably shock, she estimates) try to use the pliers to position a small wire into the mechanism.

“Shit,” he says, dropping the pliers and burying his head in his hands. MJ doesn’t really know what to do for a moment, but decides some comfort might be necessary. She crouches down and picks the pliers up from the floor, before placing a hand tentatively on Peter’s shoulder. “I can try, if you’d like?”

“Sure go ahead,” he says, tiredly. She takes the pliers and manages to get the wire solidly in its grip. “Where does it need to go Peter?” 

He snaps out of his malaise. “Oh um, there,” pointing at a small gap on the circuit board and she is able to place it there without too much difficulty. “Thanks MJ. I...um...I’m sorry about that. I should be able to do that at least.”

“You’re tired, Peter. It’s OK. I don’t mind, in fact it’s kinda cool. I’m not really that good at this kind of thing so… yeah.” She’s rambling now, because she desperately wants to talk to Peter no matter what the subject. He smiles at her and darn it, there it is again. That pang in her heart, those butterflies deep in the pit of her stomach. All he had to do was smile.

“Couldn’t have done this without you,” he says. “And yeah I am kinda tired.” He smiles again.

“I...uh…I know Flash has already asked but I just need to know. You are going to be OK, aren’t you?”

Peter turns to MJ and looks at her, fully. She tries to memorise every inch of his face, petrified it will be the last time she’ll see it. She notes the little scar on his chin, his wayward eyebrow that seemingly can’t be tamed, his warm and oh-so-kind eyes that smile when he does. But gosh he is so pale and the redness around his eyes hasn’t shifted. “I’m going to be OK, MJ, I promise you.”

“This isn’t funny anymore,” she says. “You can’t afford to take any more hits than you have.”

“I know. Chances are I will though,” he says with a shrug, as if it comes with the job. “But, you know, fast healing and all that.”

“It’s still hurting though?”

“Oh yeah. But I gotta stop him and there’s no one else here who can. Can you, uh, can you tell Happy that I’m definitely going to need a hospital after this? And, if anything happens to me-”

“Hey, you just told me you’re going to be OK. Nothing’s going to happen, right?” MJ is panicking now. She can entertain a lot - she already has in fairness - but his death isn’t on that list. She takes Peter by the shoulders and retireates the point, before staring into those brown eyes again. “Good luck loser, not that you’re gonna need it, right?”

He gives her another of those beautiful smiles. It’s almost as if he knows she’s banking them. “Thanks MJ.”

“We’re entering London airspace kids, can we all buckle up please?” Happy shouts from the cockpit, breaking the moment. “Peter is the suit ready?”

“Yup it’s just finishing now,” he calls back, as MJ reluctantly leaves him to take her seat. There’s a jaunty series of beeps from the machine ‘printing’ the suit, and the glass casing around it retracts so Peter can install the web-shooters and webbing and then pull it out. Ned knows what’s about to happen so he watches Flash and Betty as they witness the final product being revealed.

To Flash, Spider-Man super-fan, the suit is NOT what he thinks it’ll look like at all. It’s...baggy. Like, ten times too big. Peter takes his t-shirt off and sits down to put his legs inside the suit, his heavily bandaged thigh spotted with blood, his torso still bruised but astonishingly improved from two hours previously. There’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead, Flash notices, and all he can think of is that, if he feels exhausted and emotionally and physically drained, how the heck must Peter feel? He studies the teen as he gets up gingerly, pain etched on his face, and puts the rest of the suit on before placing the baggy mask on his head. 

“Looking good, Parker. Did you put the wrong measurements in?” he jokes.

Peter presses the spider emblem on the suit and it shrinks to fit the superhero perfectly. Flash’s jaw drops as finally, his hero is in front of him. Parker is gone, Spider-Man is here. In the suit, he stands differently, he seems taller, somehow.

“Hey Flash,” he says, as if meeting the teen for the first time. 

“Hey...Spider-Man,” Flash says, smiling knowingly. “You’re ready then?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Get inside the illusion, take it out from within, and then it’s just a guy, right, it’s just me and Beck.”

“How will you know what’s real or not?”

“Well, I have this kind of sense…” Spider-Man shrugs his shoulders.

“Your Peter Tingle?” Happy shouts from the cockpit. Suddenly the superhero stands like Peter again and Ned can’t help but giggle. “Really Happy? You’re really going to say that in front of my friends?”

This would have been a prime opportunity for Flash to have a dig. So he did. “Penis Tingle...ha!!”

“Flash, don’t.” Spider-Man clenched his fists. Flash held up his hands apologetically. “Ok, Ok, I’m sorry. What’s...um...this sense then?”

“I just get a feeling when there’s imminent danger... It’s hard to explain.”

“But it’s not been working,” Happy interjects.

“It will this time, won’t it Pete?” Ned said, in need of reassurance. “It’s got to work. Dude, you’re already going in-”

“Ned, it’s going to be fine,” Peter says, interrupting. “Happy can I have a word,” he says, limping through to the cockpit and closing the door behind him.

Flash looks at MJ, Ned and Betty and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He sits on the nearest seat and notices for the first time how much his hands are shaking. MJ looks steely. Ned looks worried. Betty is pale and tired and emotional. “Everyone OK?” MJ asks. “Flash?”

Flash looks at his hands again, and then at MJ. “Yeah, I’ll be OK, it’s just...a bit of a shock to be honest. That’s Peter! I mean, he is the LAST person I would have thought of as Spider-Man.”

“I was like that when I found out,” Ned said. “Up until this day it had all been OK, better than OK. It was so so cool.. Today...it is NOT cool. Seeing Pete hurt like this...” Betty rubs his arm. 

“It’s strange,” Betty says. “We’ve all been so sad about Mr Stark’s death, it’s like a cloud over everyone. We all grieve him, but we never knew him. But we KNOW Peter. And what if he dies? I can’t bear it.”

The group sits in silence before the cockpit door opens and Spider-Man reappears. “OK guys, I am going on the outside of the plane now, wait until the threat appears and then we’re going to go above it and I’m going to drop in. Chances are the rest of the class are going to be there so your job is, when Happy lands the jet, is to please go get the guys on board and get out as fast as you can.”

“What about you?” Betty asks.

“I’ll be fine, getting you all away from the danger is my first priority. Don’t worry about me.”

“But we do, Pete,” Ned says. 

“Ned, you’re my Guy in the Chair. I’m counting on you now to step up.” Peter says with authority. “This is serious.” 

Ned gets up and hugs his friend before they perform their little handshake. “Dude you got this,” he says.

Flash holds up his phone. “I just got a message back from Mr Harrington. Says they’re on the way to the Tower of London but their bus is stuck in some sort of traffic on Tower Bridge?”

Almost instantly after he says that, Happy calls from the cockpit. “This thing is huge Pete, are you sure it was meant to be this big?”

He watches Spider-Man bristle, fists clenched and then, without saying another word, go into the lab and disappear through a hatch. The next thing he sees is Spider-Man - Peter - crawling on the outside of a jet plane. All he could think was how sticky he really must be, and how unbelievably strong he was. 

Suddenly, the plane diverts sharply upwards, and all three teens are glad of the seat belts. Betty screams, and Ned grabs her hand. Flash looks outside the window to see the horror ahead and then Spider-Man fly past him, somersaulting down towards the so-called “Avengers level” threat. 

Insane just got awesome.


	4. The bridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really glad people are enjoying this fic so far, I hope this next chapter doesn’t disappoint!
> 
> We divert from the story a bit here (no change there then!), and MJ finds Peter a little bit later than she does in the movie. 
> 
> Also there’s alternating POV’s in this.
> 
> Also it’s pretty long.

She wasn’t sure what was worse, being able to watch Peter fight Beck over Tower Bridge and witness him take every potential hit, or not being able to watch and save herself that stress, but then only hear sporadic updates via Happy and their comms link. 

Then again she was pretty busy herself in this moment, trying not to die by killer drone. 

She and Happy, Flash, Ned and Betty had literally stepped off the jet to go smuggle the rest of the class trip to safety when it was unceremoniously blown to smithereens, two offending drones attempting to exterminate them. 

Had she had time to even think about the situation as a whole, she’d have pondered on how amazing the human body is to react in times of danger, how the adrenaline pumps as fast as the heart to stave off the bone deep exhaustion, keep the body running faster than it ever has before, fight harder, keep all the emotions in check - basically, survive.

She’s running through the Tower gates, vaguely aware of the group behind her, acutely aware of the two Grenadier guardsmen shooting over her head at the chasing drones and then hears the thunder of one of the drones crashing to the ground. She runs into the Tower and - distantly hearing the cries of Happy to head to the Crown Jewels Vault - weaves in and out of the armoury before everyone has to take cover.

She has no clue what Peter is doing, how he’s doing, whether he’s alive or dead. All she knows is that as she ran into the Tower she saw the absolutely massive “monster” disappearing in pockets to reveal an army of drones, hundreds of them, blue pixels surrounding each of the gaps. So, he’s managed to get inside the illusion, she figures.

They’re now successfully inside the vault, and she has a very heavy spiked mace and Ned has a Halberd. Sadly, a lame defence against the one remaining drone, which is burning through the foot-thick vault door with a laser.

Suddenly, Happy has his hand to his ear. “We’re OK Pete...yeah we’re inside the vault so I’ve bought us some time. Just not that much.”

“Is he OK?” She asks.

“All he cared about was that we were alive,” he says, turning to her. He comes to stand in front of her, Flash, Ned and Betty barely glancing across as their eyes remained fixed on the impending threat and their likely doom.

“Listen, I told him he’d be able to give you this himself, but given we aren’t in a great place right now I think you should have it”

He fishes in his trouser pocket. “Shit,” he whispers. “It’s broken,” he says as he reveals a delicate black dahlia necklace, snapped into several pieces. The edges are sharp. “You should still have this. He wants you to have it, and to know he cares.”

She looks down into Happy’s palm and observes the carefully considered gift before gently taking it from him. Under different circumstances she’d have found a better place for it than the back pocket of her jeans but it would have to do for now. That pang in her heart is there again. He cares about her. “Thank you Happy,” she says. 

Suddenly, the portion of burned out vault door starts making huge thudding noises, and it starts to be pushed through, millimetre by agonising millimetre. 

Waiting for impending death is a weird thing. They say you see your life flash before you but it doesn’t really. It’s more of a reflection on all the mistakes you’ve made and what you’ll miss out on in later life that rushes through your brain. 

Well at least that was the case for her and the group. They all start blurting out sad truths and regrets. 

In the moment when the vault door is finally breached, they all hold a collective breath, while Happy throws himself in front of the four teenagers. _So selfless and brave_ , MJ thinks.Then, without explanation, the drone just shuts down. It hovers in space, almost staring at the group. They stare back, fixed in place, unsure whether to try to move or just stay still. They telepathically agree on the latter. The silence is deafening - and it seems to last for an eternity. No one speaks, no one takes a deep breath, no one even flinches. MJ slowly moves her eyes leftward to see her friends and witnesses a single tear slowly trickle down Flash’s face. 

Ned speaks, trying not to move a muscle when doing so. “What do we do?” It’s barely a whisper. 

“Dunno…” Flash whispers, gulping. 

MJ has no idea how long they stay there, fixed in place like the mannequins wearing armour outside the vault. All she can hear is their breathing and, in the distance, the sirens of responding emergency services. Then, without warning, the drone, which had been so hell bent on killing them, turns around and leaves. 

“Woo!!!!” Flash shouts. “Holy shit!” 

The group collectively exhales, exhaustion crashing over them like a tidal wave. Ned wobbles on his feet, Betty sinks to her knees, head in hands, Happy remains oddly on guard, seemingly unable to take off his “bodyguard” armour.

MJ just shoves the heavy door open and runs.

“Hey, what are you doing!?” she hears distantly behind her. Her legs are carrying her forward almost on auto-pilot, her body’s natural instinct to go find Peter, completely unsure of what she’ll find. He could be dead, he could be floating away on the Thames, he could be perfectly fine - but she really doubts the latter given the state he was in beforehand. All she knows is that she has a deep feeling of dread in the very pit of her stomach. She has to find him. As she exits the Tower she hears her name being called and looks over her shoulder to see the group following her, unable to completely keep up but close enough they had her in their sights. She runs and runs and runs until she reaches the edge of the now obliterated bridge and her heart flies up to her mouth with such force she stops dead and almost throws up.

It is a devastating battlefield, part of the turret on the near side is completely gone, there are cars and a bus in the river, the iconic blue barriers are burned, broken and damaged, all the cars still on the road are on their side and burning, there is rubble EVERYWHERE. And then, through the smoke and the waves of heat and the destruction, she sees him. 

“Oh my God,” is all she hears beside her as Flash, Ned, Happy and Betty arrive. She isn’t sure if it’s just their shock at the scene before them, or they’d seen Peter too. Her legs take her forward again, ever faster until she’s sprinting. She drops the mace she’d completely forgotten she was holding and stops before him.

Peter is sitting beside one of the battered cars, using its roof as something to lean against. He has both hands gripped tightly on his thigh, and blood is trickling down the side of his face and his nose. His head is leaning back on the car roof, and she can see he’s trying to regulate his breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. His suit is obliterated, torn, bloodied and burned. His mask and the EDITH glasses lay next to him. 

She crouches beside him, vaguely aware she’s not alone as the group has followed her. They’re keeping distance.

“Peter...Peter can you hear me?”

“MJ…” he croaks in surprise. His glassy eyes are so fixed on her face he doesn’t see he has more than an audience of one. “Is everyone OK?”

“Yeah we’re OK, everyone’s OK,” she looks over her shoulder to see her friends and Happy, who is already on the phone to someone. “Are you OK?” _Stupid question, MJ_

“Yeah…” god that boy really isn’t great at lying. “What... happened?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me that. We were in the vault and they just got through and then they just stopped. Was that you?”

“Yeah…” Peter is so tired, and his eyes start to fall shut again. She tenderly cups his face in her hands. 

“No, no Pete you can’t do that, no sleeping OK? Do you think you can you move? We need to get you out of here.” She can’t help but panic.

He screws his face up, slowly considering the question before releasing his hands from his leg and slowly using his good leg and the side of the car to try to stumble to his feet. To say his movements are sluggish is an understatement and MJ can’t watch him struggle alone any longer. There’s not much of her and she’s not the strongest, but she hooks her arms under his armpits and hauls him the rest of the way up, holding on for dear life. The assistance turns into the most desperate and longing hug she’s ever received and she can’t help but reciprocate. His head is buried in her shoulder, his arms tightly wrapped around her small frame. She isn’t sure how much of that is for comfort or for support. She smells the smoke, dust, petrol, blood and sweat in his hair and his tattered suit - nothing had ever smelled better. Peter is alive, and is in her arms. It’s like being in some kind of bizarre bubble. All sense of time and space is gone. Everything faded into the background. In that moment, it’s just him and her.

The moment disappears when she feels Peter’s weight seem to gain and his grasp on her begins to slip. 

“Peter!”

\---------------------

He’d never forget the night he discovered his best friend was “the Spider-man - off YouTube”. It was literally the most heart-stoppingly awesome moment of his life. His prized Lego Death Star was no longer relevant, let alone important. His friend just crawled along the ceiling and gracefully dropped in front of him by stealth. Tony Stark made his suit! Nothing could ever top this level of cool.

In the days that followed, he became Peter’s Guy In The Chair and it felt incredible. It was a bit of a baptism of fire initially - within the first week he was helping him fight the Vulture - but he quickly found his stride. Never in a million years did he think he’d ever have a job as cool. As the weeks and months passed, being Spidey’s right hand man never got any less awesome.

There’d been a couple of hairy moments for sure though, reminding him that Peter’s life was truly dangerous. On more than one occasion he’d lost contact with Peter and feared the worst, only to have his friend fall through his bedroom window with all kinds of knocks and scrapes. 

Most of the time he was able to patch him up, but there had been one time when he found Peter hypothermic and unconscious on the fire escape hatch next to his bedroom window. It was awful, unable to do anything to help except drag his friend into the warmth of his room, brush the snow off and wrap as many blankets as he could find around Peter’s limp frame. He had no choice but to call Happy, and within minutes Mr Stark was there in his Iron Man suit and scooping Peter up before zooming off to the compound. It took Peter three days to wake up, and Ned had cried for almost all that time.

That had been the worst day.

This was now the worst day. 

When Peter crashed into the train carriage that morning he swore his heart stopped. Instinct had kicked in and he went into autopilot, doing all he could to both help MJ help Peter, and support Betty. The arrival of Happy eased his fears, the elder man able to take the lead and provide some kind of calm. All the while his friend, his brother, was suffering pain and mental torment beyond anything he could have ever imagined. His injuries were just horrible. And there was nothing he could do about it to take it all away. He felt entirely redundant and sick with worry. 

It seemed all he could do was watch. He watched Peter’s every move, observed every wince, every shift in weight, every gulp pushing down nausea, every time he welled up with tears that never fell, every clench of his jaw as he had a brief burst of determination. He so badly wanted to ask Peter how he was doing, every few minutes, but he knew Peter wouldn’t want to be asked at all, let alone more than once. He knew his friend well enough that constructive and well-timed support would be what he wanted, what he needed. So he watched and waited.

And now, in this moment, the threat was over, the drones had left London and he was watching MJ tend to him. He’s propped up against the roof of an overturned car, legs splayed outward, both hands gripping his leg as if to hold it together. His breathing is laboured, his neck seemingly unable to hold his head up as he tries to talk with the girl he likes so much. 

Ned feels sick. He thought the sight of him after the train incident was bad, but this was somehow even worse. Sights and sounds around him seem to blur, Peter the only thing in focus. Then, without warning everything comes back online and he sees the flames, the smoke and the people beside him. He smells the acrid stench of petrol and smoke, burning his lungs. He hears the sirens, Happy calling someone for a medivac, and MJ’s gentle words to Peter.

Peter begins to move, slowly trying to get to his feet with MJ’s help before falling into her arms and then slipping into unconsciousness once again. Her cry of his name is the final straw. He can’t stand back any more. He lets go of Betty’s hand (something he hadn’t realised he’d been doing until he released it) and races over to help MJ. 

“Get him in the recovery position,” he says, the words sprinting out of his mouth. They roll him onto his left side, taking pressure off the right, and Ned takes off his overshirt to make a small pillow for his head. He checks Peter’s pulse and makes sure his airways are clear. “Medivac will be here in two minutes,” he hears Happy say, and as he looks up he sees Happy rushing over. MJ is on her knees behind Peter, and her hands are hovered over his body, scared to make contact. Flash is crouched besides Peter’s feet, running his hand through his hair and covering his mouth with his other hand. Betty is pacing behind him, hugging herself, unable to watch. 

“I...I...I should call Mr Harrington,” Flash says, breaking the silence. “What do I say?”

“That you’re all fine, you’re safe and you need to know where to meet them so you can all go home,” Happy says. 

“But I don’t want to leave him, sir.”

Ned has never agreed with Flash before in his life, until today. “Me neither,” he says.

“Or me,” Betty adds. “We can’t just walk away from this, sir.”

One look from MJ is enough to know she’s not going anywhere.

Flash looks at him, searching for an answer.

“You...uh...you could say we came into London airspace, saw the threat and turned back. And that the only...available place to land was somewhere else? I dunno, Scotland or something?” he suggests.

“Good plan,” Happy suggests. “They don’t have to know we’re still here. Let me make a call before you text.”

Flash prepares the text, ready to send as soon as he gets the nod from Happy. “Good idea Ned,” he adds. “Thanks for coming up with it.”

“No worries,” Ned says.

As Happy goes to make the call, the Medivac arrives and the group shields Peter from the downforce. A piece of rubble flies into Flash’s back, and he feels the resulting blood trickle down towards his pants, but he doesn’t care. It’s not important. 

Within seconds medical staff are tending to Peter. They don’t look like conventional paramedics, wearing black outfits, while he notes the helicopter is painted all black as well. “It’s OK,” a blonde woman says to them as she and a colleague roll Peter onto a backboard. “We’re from the UK branch of SHIELD, his identity is protected.” Ned and MJ breathe sighs of relief.

As they move Peter on a stretcher and quickly get him into the helicopter, Happy ushers the group to join him on board and within seconds they’re airborne, destination unknown. 

They are all given headphones, enabling them to speak to one another but nothing is said. Flash sends the text as instructed, giving them a good cover story for a while, before staring out the open-sided ‘doorway’, fixated on the London skyline, grey clouds matching the architecture. MJ is holding Peter’s hand, while the paramedic team take all his vitals and get an IV set up for fluids and painkillers. Happy is instructing them on what injuries they knew he had from the train incident, and Flash can’t help but remember the special drugs he’d given Peter on the plane. 

Within minutes, they’re landing atop a grand looking building further down the Thames, where more medical staff were waiting to receive the superhero. 

MJ and Ned are stuck to Peter’s side like glue, leaving Betty and Flash in this weird place, not knowing what to do or where to be. Sticking with Happy seemed to be the natural thing to start with, and Flash puts his arm round Betty to offer her some comfort as her tears continue to fall. She’s in shock now, no doubt. “Flash, you’re bleeding,” she says as she pulls away from the embrace and notices red liquid on her arm. “Oh...yeah…” he says, forgetting it had happened. In fact, he can’t really feel it either. Maybe he’s in shock, too.

Happy is on the phone to someone, and he’s not being secretive about it, speaking over the whirring blades of the helicopter beside them. He’s got a finger in one ear and he’s shouting. 

“Yeah Bruce we have a situation here...Peter’s hurt, it’s bad… they’re just getting him to the medical wing at SHIELD in London… I am with him. Yeah… yeah we don’t have any of his meds with us -” there’s a long pause. “So you can get some shipped over? How long?” Another pause. “Ok, we’ll try to get him comfortable in the meantime. I’ll you posted. Ok...bye.”

“Who was that, sir?” Flash asks.

“Bruce Banner,” Flash’s jaw drops open. “Yeah he concocted those drugs you gave Pete on the jet. He’s getting some more shipped over but it’s going to be another four hours yet.” Happy rubs his face with his hand. “He’s given me some further advisories on what they can give him until then so...yeah...we’d better get inside.”

The inside of a top secret governmental organisation isn’t that dissimilar to a hospital. It’s all grey and glass and clean...ridiculously clean. Soulless. They see the medical team, MJ and Ned turning left at the end of the long walkway, and walk as quickly as they can to catch up. As they turn the corner they grind to a halt. Ned and MJ are there, still, peering through the glass doors they were clearly not permitted to go through. Flash will never forget the moment the two turn round and face them, desperately holding in tears they really should release. MJ’s lips are pursed into a thin line, Ned is shaking. 

“We...uh...we…” Ned struggles to speak. “There’s...um...a waiting room, down there. We have to wait.”

“Kids why don’t you go sit down, and I am going to see if I can get you all checked over. You’re all pale and in shock, Flash, you’re bleeding,” Happy observes. He guides them in the direction of the waiting room, the four youngsters shuffling along zombie-like as the events of the day begin to take their toll. Making sure they’re all sitting down and with a hot sugary cup of tea, Happy goes to find out what’s going on.

As he walks out of the door and back towards the room where they’ve taken Peter all he can hear are the sniffles and sobs of four teenagers, before the anguished, howling cry of one.


	5. The childminder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure where I’m going with this but hey, hope you enjoy it anyway!!!

Happy’s experience of babysitting went as far as getting cheeseburgers for Morgan Stark and taking Peter to his internship after school. At least that’s how much he’d had until 24 hours ago, when he was thrown in the literal deep end and given five teenagers - one seriously injured - to not only look after but keep safe and more importantly, alive.

At this moment, he cannot be in two places at once. He needs to let the medical team know what drugs Peter can be given, he needs to find out what is going on with him, and he needs to get the rest of the group some care as well. They need to be checked over and patched up. He feels he panic rising in his stomach, the responsibility for these youngsters’ safety almost too much to cope with. Taking a deep breath, he bashes the glass doors of the medical unit until there’s a loud buzz, the doors swishing open and allowing him to race into the room past the bewildered older man in scrubs who had allowed him in.

It didn’t take long to find Peter, following the sound his cries and other raised voices down another corridor. When he arrives he finds a team of about nine medical staff working frantically around the wriggling figure of Peter, his suit cut away revealing the patchwork of cuts and bruises littering his body. The bandage which they’d wrapped his thigh with has also been cut away and he can see it’s swollen and potentially broken. Peter isn’t awake but he’s clearly in distress and not making life easy for the medics. 

“Um what is going on?” he calls out over the din. 

“Get this man out of here!” someone shouts.

“Listen, I have information for you! From Bruce Banner!” he shouts, louder. The room falls quiet. 

“What information, sir?” a small nurse says next to him.

Happy snaps into action. 

“Peter’s...enhancements, mean conventional painkillers don’t work on him, there’s no point sticking him on morphine at this stage. He burns through anaesthetic as well.” The team stops completely. “Dr Banner has formulated special pain relief just for him and is having it sent over by one of our private jets. It should arrive in about four hours. He did tell me what to do but…” he pauses. “Shit, I forgot it all.” He gets his phone out and dials the last number on his call lists. “Bruce, hey, it’s me again. I can’t remember what you said, can you just talk to this doctor here real quick?” He thrusts the phone under the ear of the small nurse and can hear the muffled chatter of the Professor. She nods profusely. “Yes, sir, we’ll do that right away. Thank you so much.”

As Happy signs off from Bruce, he watches the medical team spring back into life, preparing Peter a specific cocktail of different pain relievers, the names of which go over his head. He only knows of morphine and fentanyl and neither of those are spoken. He hears the word epidural, and thinks that’s a sensible idea. 

“Sir,” he hears a quiet voice and feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. It’s the small nurse again. “Thank you so much for the information but we really need to concentrate on getting him comfortable now, so why don’t you get a cup of coffee and wait? I promise it won’t be too long.”

Happy knows what he’s heard but can’t seem to move, or take his eyes off Peter.. “I...uh...the kids, they’re in shock. One needs some stitches,” he says almost robotically. 

“Ok sir, well we can get someone to come see them, I’ll make sure of that. Come on, I think you might be in a bit of shock too, let’s get you back to them.”

The nurse hands him over to the man who let him in to the ward, and he gently guides him back to the waiting room, where four expectant faces look at him.

“Is he OK?” Ned says, standing up. He’s still shaking. 

“I...uh,” Happy stumbles on his words. “They’re just getting him comfortable right now, they said they’d have an update soon.”

“We will,” the male nurse says. “I promise. And I’m told you guys should be checked over too.” 

Over the course of the next three hours, the nurse takes each of the group one by one, off to a triage room, away from the sealed-off ward. Betty ends up on some oxygen, MJ and Ned both welcome a blanket, Flash needs six stitches in his upper back and Happy insists he’s fine and relies on caffeine to get him through. At least the constant moving and testing breaks the time.

Still, it feels like an eternity. Happy’s knee shakes relentlessly, the nervous energy having to show itself somehow. Flash is sitting forward, unable to lean back against the harsh plastic seating, and flits between facebook, twitter, instagram and snapchat on his phone. MJ is staring into space, feeling the edges of her broken necklace in her hand. Betty still has an oxygen mask on her face, and she’s dozing on Ned’s shoulder. Ned is studying a large, old map of London on the wall opposite him. 

The scene is broken when the small nurse Happy had spoken to earlier pokes her head through the door. “Sir?” she says quietly, but the whole room turns to look. Happy, MJ and Flash stand immediately. Ned taps Betty on the shoulder to wake her.

“He’s stable,” she says, and allows the room to collectively exhale before continuing. “His pain relief arrived about 20 minutes ago and he’s now resting properly. Before it arrived he was in considerable distress, I’m afraid. We did the best we could under the circumstances but as expected he burned through what pain relief we could give him pretty quick and we couldn’t risk overdose.”

“But he’s OK now?” MJ asks, voice quivering.

“Yes, sweetie. Now he’s sleeping and still, we’ll be taking him for an X-Ray on his leg, and once we’re done you can come see him, is that OK?”

The group nods earnestly. 

As promised, half an hour later the kind woman returns, kindly ushering the group to follow her. The doors to the ward that was previously out of bounds, are open already as they arrive, and Happy can’t help but notice how much quieter it is inside the space. 

They stop outside a frosted glass door and the nurse turns to look at them with a gentle smile. “Just be quiet when you go in, he really needs the peace and the rest. OK?” 

The door opens. MJ muscles her way to the front, her breath catching in her throat as she sees him. 

He’s so still. His head and feet are raised slightly by the hospital bed, with dressings on three wounds on his upper chest, and a nasal cannula supplying oxygen. There’s the inevitable IV providing fluids and other drugs, and a couple of monitors whirring in the background, keeping tabs on his vitals. The medical staff have ensured there’s enough seating for everyone to keep watch, although Happy declines, choosing to stand in the corner instead. MJ takes the nearest seat to him and gently takes his right hand. 

“This isn’t, like, a regular thing, is it?” she says, turning to Ned. 

“Hell no. At least I don’t think so.”

“Well, Homecoming wasn’t exactly a walk in the park,” Happy adds. “But no, he tends to heal so fast he rarely needs the medbay. It’s probably worse this time because of the sustained nature of it. He went into it already hurt, and no time to recover.”

At that point the nurse and another medic entered the room, armed with the X-Rays they’d taken of Peter’s leg. They turn to Happy. “So it is fractured, but thankfully not in a way that requires us to perform surgery at this time. With his healing factor taken into account and the nanite casts we have-” the doctor glances at Happy. “-courtesy of Mr Stark’s innovation, he should be able to walk on it for a short while - enough to get him back home and to the care of Dr Banner, where he can finish his recovery.”

“That’s good news, thank you doc,” Happy says. “Hey, is there anyway to dim the lighting in here, he won’t like it this bright when he wakes.”

“Certainly sir, I’ll set it to about 30%, will that be OK for him?”

Happy nods and the doctors depart. “We’ll have that cast ready in a few hours,” one of them says as they head out of the room.

“What’s up with the light situation sir?” Flash asks Happy.

“Oh Peter’s senses are, as he would call it, ‘dialled to eleven’ since he got his powers,” Ned said. “It can get quite bad.”

Flash can’t help but view everything about Peter with hindsight. Since finding out this bombshell news, he’s been trawling through his memories and recounting all the times he probably should have guessed something was up. The change in his health, the lack of glasses, the skipped classes and decathlon practice, his disappearance from the party - and now all those times he wore sunglasses when it was cloudy, and how he always had his headphones on in busy places. 

“So like, sensory overload then?” He enquires.

“Exactly,” Happy says. “It’s always worse when he’s hurt. And hospital lighting isn’t ever kind, is it? Anyway, another reason to keep your voices down, especially when he does wake up. There’ll be a bit of time to adjust for him.”

“Is touch an issue?” Betty asks.

“Sometimes,” Ned says. “That’s when it’s at its worst. Thankfully that’s only happened once when I was around. It wasn’t nice.”

“Poor Pete,” Betty adds, quietly. She doesn’t mean to take pity but she can’t help but look upon her classmate and worry about all the things he has to deal with over and above a typical teenager. All she has to worry about is her hair and her grades. 

And so the waiting begins again, just in a different setting. The day turns into night, the nurses bring a TV into the room so there’s some visual stimulation for the group, the volume on mute. They just have Sky News on, watching footage of the battle Peter had endured against Beck. Most of it had been filmed on mobile phones, both from the riverside and from people on pleasure cruises along the Thames. And no matter how many times they watch it, it doesn’t seem to lose its shock value. Flash cannot help but marvel at how Peter took on the drones, Betty winces every time there’s a shot of Peter with his suit on fire, Ned holds his breath every time he sees the moment Peter crashes into the blue railing. MJ doesn’t watch at all, eyes fixed on Peter, on the present.

It’s 7pm, just after they’ve eaten three pizzas between them, that Flash notices it. The increase in speed in his breathing, the slight movement of toes under the sheet.

“Parker, you there?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. Just in case, he thinks.

MJ, who’s just been to the restroom to wash her hands of pepperoni oil, takes Peter’s hand, gently. “Peter?”

The boy’s head lolls in MJ’s direction before his eyes slowly open, adjusting to the still dim light. “Where am I?” he slurs.

“We’re at SHIELD’s UK headquarters. It’s OK now, we’re all OK,” she says, answering before he has the chance to ask.

“Mmmmmmm,” he hums, eyes sluggishly closing once more. “OK.”

Ned comes to the other side of Peter’s bed. “Hey dude,” he says, Peter slowly turning to face him. “How are you feeling, how’s the pain? On a one to ten?”

“Eiii...seven,” Peter slurs. “Can handle it.”

“No, that’s not how it works,” Happy says, leaning in. “I’ll go get the docs.”

“Where is it hurting most Pete?” Ned says. “I know you’re tired, and you can sleep in a minute OK, just tell us and we can tell the docs?”

“Leg… ribs… head,” he says, eyes shut, screwed up slightly. 

“OK buddy, you just get back to sleep,” Ned puts a hand on his shoulder by way of comfort. He’d engulf him in a massive hug if he could, but that would have to wait. 

Peter didn’t need much rocking and before long was back asleep, albeit fitful, helped no end by the doctors arriving and giving him some more of Bruce’s superhero meds. 

“Um, Mr Doctor, sir, do you know when Peter will be fit to fly home? We don’t really want to leave him here…” Flash asks, MJ nodding in agreement.

“Plenty of rest, nutrients and medication and no complications, he should be vastly improved by morning and maybe ready to go tomorrow afternoon,” said the medic. “We’ll have a video conference with Dr Banner tomorrow to discuss further.”

Happy hears the exchange and gets his phone out. “Don’t worry, leave it with me I’m just going to make a call and...organise some stuff,” he says cryptically before swiftly exiting the room. MJ gives him one of her classic cynical looks. “He’ll be calling Fury,” she says. “And you watch as Mr Harrington gets a call-” she says the last words with the quote mark action “-to say the flight’s been changed.”

Low and behold, ten minutes later, Flash gets a message from said teacher to say they’ve been put up at The Savoy and would be flying home a day later. Flash could only smile at the ridiculousness of it all. 

“You kids need some sleep as well,” Happy says, returning to the room with a tray full of hot and cold drinks, unaware they know exactly who he’s called and what he’s arranged. “There’s a hotel just round the corner, just basic, but I’m told the beds are very good and you all need the sleep. It’s been a day, eh? Pete’s OK here, and I’ll stay with him.”

The idea of a nice hotel bed and a hot shower really appeals, but to be honest none of the group really wants to leave Peter behind. Eventually though, they reluctantly say their goodbyes, MJ planting a chaste kiss on Peter’s forehead as she did so, and Happy takes them to the hotel to get them checked in.

“Promise you’ll tell us if anything changes,” MJ asks Happy. “And I will be back to see him at 7am, on the dot.”

“Sure thing MJ. I promise I’ll let you know. I’ve got Ned’s number, anything changes I’ll call. But I’m sure he’s going to be fine, I should imagine he’ll sleep right through. And so should you - go get some rest.”

She surprises him by giving the man a hug, and it’s not long before he’s engulfed by teenage arms, collectively cuddling the burly bodyguard and thanking him in turn.

Seems he wasn’t such a bad babysitter after all


	6. All filler no killer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don’t know where I’m going with this! 
> 
> In this episode, fluff.

She doesn’t remember when she fell asleep, but she’s fully clothed and the curtains aren’t even drawn when she wakes up, bright light shining through and bringing her out of her slumber. Her sleep had been littered with dreams - dreams of planes and drones, all playing out to the rhythm of her elevated heart rate. Peter is there throughout it all, and he’s hurting. He’s hurting so badly and there’s nothing she can do. No matter where she goes or what she does, she’s unable to touch him, an invisible forcefield preventing her from being able to stop the pain, but forcing her to watch. She cries in her dreams and she realises as her eyes shoot open that the soft cotton pillow beneath her head is wet.

Wiping her eyes, she grabs her phone from the nightstand and sees the time, 5.45am. She also notes the lack of any messages or missed calls - no news is good news, she hopes. She rolls over, and sees Betty still sleeping. She doesn’t want to wake her, but she can smell the smoke and sweat in her clothing, and although there is no hope of getting any of it washed, she gets a sudden need to at least clean herself.

She tiptoes into the bathroom and switches the shower on before stripping off and getting in, allowing the hot water to cascade through her curly hair and down her body. She stands there for an indeterminate amount of time, relishing the water pressure and the almost-massage she gets from the spray. Thankfully, the hotel is fully stocked with toiletries and she quickly washes down and gets her hair washed. Dried off and teeth cleaned, she reluctantly puts back on the dirty clothes and creeps back out. 

She finds Betty awake, sitting up in bed and reading her phone. “I have so many messages,” she says. “I didn’t have the energy to look at it yesterday. Now my mum thinks I’m dead. I feel so bad.”

“Give her a call. It’s what, 1am there, she might still be awake? Sorry if I woke you, by the way. I just...I had to shower.”

Betty smiles, and dials. MJ can hear the shrieking of Betty’s mother from across the room. She’d text her own parents rather than called them - she couldn’t have handled that level of fuss. Fuss is for other people. So she carries on with her routine, using the lame hotel-issue hairdryer to try to get her hair somewhere near dry. She gives up 15 minutes in, her hair still very damp. Betty is off the phone by the time she unplugs and is making her way to the shower herself. She puts her hair into a messy ponytail and then, for the first time, collects the broken black Dahlia necklace and puts it on. The glass is broken in such a way that it looks like abstract art, and she studies it carefully in her reflection. It’s so perfect she cannot help but gently place her hand over it, and smile.

“I’m going to knock on for the guys,” MJ says, grabbing a key off the sideboard. She’s feeling too anxious to see him now.

“Sure thing,” Betty says. “They’re awake, I’ve been texting Ned.”

MJ walks down the dated corridor and reaches their room, which is only a few doors down. As soon as she knocks, Ned is there, opening. “Hey,” he says. “You’re ready to go?”

“Yeah I need to see him. Any overnight messages?”

“No, so I’m taking that as good news. Flash is taking an age to get ready. I’m trying to get him to hurry up. I’m going to text Happy and say we’ll be ready in ten minutes?”

“Sounds good. I’ll wait in reception.” MJ turns on her heel and walks back to her room, grabbing her backpack and telling Betty where she’ll be. “Happy will be here in ten,” she calls, trying to get the message over Betty’s singing to the latest Jonas Brothers album. After the third attempt, Betty gets the message and MJ can breathe a sigh of relief, knowing she’s one step closer to seeing him. 

When she gets to the hotel reception, Ned is already there, and he looks as anxious as she feels. “You OK?” she asks. “Get any sleep?”

“Not really, on and off,” he says, and she notices the darkness under his eyes. “You?”

“I slept, yeah…” she paused to consider whether to tell Ned about the dreams. “Yeah, as you’d expect, I guess.”

“I wonder how he is this morning,” Ned says, trying to make conversation. 

MJ just nods. 

Flash and Betty join them soon after, and within minutes Happy is also there, driving a large executive car with blacked out windows. The journey back to Peter feels twice as long as when they’d left him the night before. Perhaps it was just the anticipation of seeing him again, MJ thinks, as she watches the world go by from her window. She feels her heart rate spike again as the now familiar SHIELD building comes into view, joined with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Happy hasn’t uttered a word to the group since getting in the car, although she can see he’s not slept a wink and guesses he’s using all his remaining energy to drive safely and concentrate on the road.

“You OK, sir?” she checks in with him as they get out of the car and into a back entrance away from public view. “I’m fine MJ, I can sleep on the plane,” he says with a sort of sad smile. “He’s been asking after you.”

She smiles. 

As they make their way through the corridors, and take the lift up to the medical wing, there’s a nervous energy through the whole group. “He’s still groggy but a lot better this morning guys,” Happy says, breaking a bit of the tension. “Don’t overwhelm him though,” he warns. 

“Sure thing,” Flash says. He’s not told anyone but he’s been awake the entire night. He and Ned stayed up chatting about Peter and Spider-Man and the whole day for hours, and although Ned had finally succumbed to sleep at around 3.30am, Flash just couldn’t switch his brain off long enough to let the exhaustion take over. 

So, he did the only thing that he felt he was good at. He made a video blog.

He’d taken himself into the bathroom and locked the door, keeping only the small light above the mirror on so as not to disturb Ned.

He looked at himself in the front-facing camera, and for the first time, didn’t really care what he looked like. He hit record.

_“Hey...Flashmob, how’s it hangin’? So...er.. this is not a live broadcast, like how I normally do, this one’s recorded. It’s like, 3.45am and I’m holed up in this hotel bathroom and I don’t really know what I’m doing. But anyway. Reason I’m recording is because yesterday was fucking terrifying, and I might need to take a couple breaks along the way, I dunno...so…._

_“Anyway, I’m in London. And yes, I was there during the bridge attack. I saw so much...stuff I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget. You probably all know from the news what happened - you saw the footage? So then you know those so-called elemental creatures that attacked London, and Venice and Prague - all fake! All of it created by this weird drone cloaking technology. And the guy who was Mysterio, it was all him. He wanted everyone to believe he was the new Tony Stark. I mean...really? No one can match up to him._

_“Let me tell you, when you have one of those drones in your face and they’re about to shoot…it’s er… it’s scary as fuck. I really thought I was going to die._

_“And the reason I didn’t die was because of Spider-Man. You guys know I totally stan the guy, he’s awesome. But like, I’d only ever seen him on YouTube and stuff. Guys, watching that guy in action, like for real, is something else. I hope you’ll never see him, because that means shit’s going down but...woah honestly. It was incredible to see._

_“He managed to get into the middle of the illusion and expose the illusion tech, and then bring them down, and then he managed to fight Beck and gain control of the drones and get them to return from wherever they came from, space I think, and we were saved._

_“But this is the bit you don’t know. Or maybe you do. He was actually injured before the fight. Beck had tried to kill him...I might cut this. Yeah I’ll probably cut this, but I just need to say it._

_“Me and my friends found him on a train we were on. He’d been hit by the train - Beck pushed him into its path. Like, he survived being hit by a train! We couldn’t leave him then, could we? So we offered to patch him up and help him get to London to take Beck down before thousands were killed. And he allowed us to do that. I mean, what an honour. None of us are like, medically trained, or anything, so we just did the best we could. We couldn’t leave him, we had to help._

_“But guys, here’s the thing. He’s one of us. Like, the most normal guy you’d ever meet. Underneath that suit is a normal person. Well, I say normal, he’s got crazy skills. But more than anything he’s a good person. Like, better than all of us. It’s like it’s life’s work to protect us all. He’s selfless...yeah that’s the word. Selfless._

_“I can’t tell you everything I know. I won’t. But what I will tell you is this. I’ve always said Spider-Man inspires me to be a better man, you guys have heard me say that before, but until yesterday I didn’t really know what that actually meant. Today I do. He protects us and, knowing him now like I do, I’m going to do all I can to...well, be more Spider-Man I guess. And protect him too. He needs us all to look out for him as much as he looks out for us. That’s really important - I can’t say it enough that he does all this shit on his own and he’s tired, guys. Like, cut him some slack, if he helps you out, buy him a churro - you know, gratitude is important._

_“I kinda took it for granted whenever I saw all the YouTube videos that he was just super-strong and almost untouchable, I guess you all do too. Yesterday...I saw first hand that it’s not like that. He hurts just like us, bleeds just like us, cries just like us. He faces death probably every day when we might only face it once or twice. He’s so fucking brave._

_“Anyway, I don’t know if I’ll ever post this but I just needed to put it on record - even if it’s only for me - that Spider-Man is a fucking hero. Signing off, Flashmob. Stay safe out there ok, and hey, be more Spider-Man.”_

“Hey, earth to Flash,” he hears, seeing MJ waving a hand in front of his face. “We’re here.” She grabs his arm and drags him from the elevator to join the rest of the group. They walk through to the medical wing quietly, still intimidated by the space and the people working there. 

It’s not long before they’re back standing outside the door to Peter’s room but this time, when the door opens there’s a pleasant surprise rather than a nasty shock. The relief is palpable as Happy opens the door to reveal an awake Peter, now minus the heart monitors and the nasal cannula, sitting up in bed and eating some breakfast. His face still shows serious signs of exhaustion and he has an epic case of bed hair, but he’s there and he’s lucid and he’s looking so much better.

“Hey guys,” he says, slowly setting down his yogurt pot and spoon. “You all ok?”

MJ can’t hold it in and throws herself at him for a hug which he anticipates and returns as best he can with an IV attached and one of those over-the-bed tables across his lap. “God I was so worried about you,” she says, gulping back the tears.

“I’m OK MJ, I promise. The drugs here are good,” he jokes with a slightly drunken giggle and she notes that indeed, he is pretty high on whatever it is they have him on. She runs a hand through his unruly curls. “You need a shower,” she says.

“Hmm I know. Gonna have one in a bit,” he says. 

MJ pulls away and one by one, the group greets him. Betty hugs him, Flash tries to keep it cool with a firm handshake but even that turns into an embrace, and Ned also hugs him - but not before the signature handshake. It has all the weight and emotion of when they’d seen each other for the first time post-blip. It’s a happy moment, but also a reflective one and as Peter sinks back into his pillows, the group position themselves back in the seats they’d occupied the night before. Happy goes to get the group some breakfast, leaving the teens alone.

“You look better,” MJ says. “How are you doing? Do you know if you can come home with us today? Sorry, lots of questions…”

Peter chuckles again and shrugs his shoulders. “I’m…OK. Sore still but it’s more bearable. If I don’t move. I think I can, there’s some meeting later. Apparently I have to eat, like 5,000 calories before noon. Helps with the healing.”

Flash’s eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yeah I have a crazy metabolism. You don’t see my lunches do you?”

“Can’t say I ever took much notice before,” he admits.

“Well, now you know. Normally I have to eat 5,000 a day but now it’s like, double, until I’m fully better.”

“Holy shit that’s a lot of food!”

“It is. I have these smoothies they developed for Captain America that I use. They’re rank, but they do the job.”

Ah, this doesn’t get any less surreal, Flash thinks.

“What about your leg?” Betty asks.

Peter sluggishly pushes the over bed table to one side, then pulls the sheet across to show them. His leg is encased in some sort of cast, but it also looks a bit like a brace. “It’s like a plaster cast but it’s made from nanites,” he says, slurring the last word a bit. “Means I can put weight through it without causing any more damage.”

“It was bleeding a lot, how is it underneath?” Ned asks.

“I dunno,” Peter shrugs. “Hopefully all healed now. They’ll probably check it later. They put it on while I was asleep.”

MJ notices Peter has paled a bit since their arrival and he’s slurring his words a bit more. “You need more sleep, don’t you?”

“Hmm. Need to eat this first,” he grabs the spoon and the yoghurt and fumbles his way to the bottom of the pot, almost asleep as he finishes the last mouthful. MJ carefully removes the pot and spoon from his hands, putting them out of the way, and Flash can’t help but notice a tenderness and care he’s never seen from her normally cold persona. She runs a hand through his hair again. “Get some sleep Tiger,” she says, and within seconds he’s snoring quietly.

“Dude looks wiped out,” Ned says. “I can’t see how we’re going to get him home today.”

Happy returns to the room with gusto. “Hey guys - oh he’s asleep again,” he lowers his voice to a whisper. “Here, take a bag each, you guys need to eat too,” thrusting a McDonald’s bag under each of their noses. The group gladly accepts the McMuffins and orange juice. 

“How are we going to get him home today, sir?” Ned reiterates his earlier point.

“We’ll work something out don’t worry. We go home together.” no matter what. The flight is scheduled for 6pm, so we’ve plenty of time.” Happy stuffs his hands in his pockets. “So... did you guys want to go do a little sightseeing before the flight? Pete’s not going anywhere for a few hours and as you can see, isn’t much company.”

The group looks at one another, hoping one will give an answer. “I guess we could, like I’ve always wanted to see where the Queen lives,” Flash says. 

“We can do that,” MJ says. 

“Great, well I can drive us up there, and then you guys can take your pictures and stuff and we can come back in a couple hours, how does that sound?”

“But what about Peter, he’ll be alone?”

“Betty, he suggested it. Didn’t want you guys to be stuck here all day. He’ll be fine, and if we’re back by lunchtime I’ll be around to run the conference call between the medics and Dr Banner, we can get him signed off and then we can all get to the airport for check in.”

MJ takes Peter’s hand and he stirs, half opening his eyes and giving her a sleepy version of one of those gorgeous smiles that melt her heart. “Hey,” he says.

“You should be sleeping.”

“You should be sightseeing,” he mumbles.

“We’re just going now. But we’ll be back before lunch, I promise. Sleep, and then eat your weight in cake, yeah?”

His thumb gently rubs her hand and her tummy flips at the affectionate contact. “Have fun,” he says, eyes closing again. She feels a huge pang of guilt. He’ll likely not remember the encounter later on, and she treasures it, but at the same time she’s thinking about all the times they’ve had fun - all the fun times ahead - and how many times Peter’s missed out because of his superhero life. Here he is, paying the price for saving their lives, lives they get to go enjoy as a result. He won’t see Buckingham Palace today. 

She and the gang reluctantly leave Peter behind as they go on their little jaunt, and while Buckingham Palace is indeed impressive - Flash is fascinated by the Changing of the Guard and live streams the whole thing - their minds remain with their friend.

“I feel like we should get him some souvenirs,” Betty suggests. “Like, some fun stuff, make him smile.”

“Babe that’s a great idea,” Ned says, “Happy can you take us to a gift shop or something?”

They end up in the middle of Piccadilly Circus, where Ned finds the LEGO Store and loses his shit over the massive Big Ben in the window, not to mention the Tube carriage you can sit in. He and Betty buy Peter a London-themed LEGO set depicting Trafalgar Square. It’s only 1200 pieces but it’ll be a good project for them to work on when they get home, Ned thinks. The purchase leaves him with exactly £10.67 in spending money.

Meanwhile, Flash and MJ go into a massive souvenir store opposite, enjoying all the tatty stuff they sell, and know exactly what they’ll get him. MJ gets him a t-shirt that says “I went to London and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.” and a book on Jack the Ripper, while Flash buys him a London-themed drinks holder (for his smoothies) and three boxes of clotted cream fudge that had enough calories in it to give an average person a heart attack. It’s a carefully considered haul, all told, and the group are keen to get back to him to present him with his gifts.

When they return, they find Peter awake again and now chugging down a protein shake. He’s grimacing at the taste, and Flash guesses it must be like one of the ones he usually has. All four teens hide the gifts behind their backs. 

“Hey guys did you have fun, what’s Buckingham Palace like?” he asks, genuinely curious and not intending to send them on a guilt trip. 

“Yeah it was good,” Flash said. “I live streamed the Changing of the Guard, you should watch it.”

“Dude, the band played the Star Wars theme as part of the warm-up,” Ned added. 

“Sweet!” Peter is a lot brighter, MJ notices. Only a few hours later and the improvement is remarkable. He’s clearly showered while they’ve been out as well, as his hair is now in his regular style and there’s a distinct scent of something nice. 

“We...er...we got you some presents,” Betty says, thrusting a card into Peter’s hand. “Wow thanks guys, you didn’t have to.”

“We wanted to Parker. You saved us,” Flash said. “We owe you a lot more than you’re about to get!”

After he’s opened the thank you card, one by one the group present their offerings. Peter is genuinely taken aback when Flash gives him the drinks bottle and the fudge, and minutes later he’s got a box open and is sharing it around. The fudge is insanely good, they all agree, and Flash announces his intent to spend the rest of his money on more boxes at the airport. Ned and Betty’s LEGO offering is a hit too. Peter doesn’t really have much LEGO owing to the cost of it, and this is possibly the biggest set he’s ever owned. Then MJ gives her gifts. She gives him a look he knows well, one which tells him that she really cares but she’s not about to show it in material ways, and he laughs as he opens the bag to find the book and the t-shirt. “Hey, at least I have something to wear now!” he says, before nervously opening his arms for a hug from her. She responds immediately, and in the embrace he whispers, “Thank you so much, I love them,” before sneaking a kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you so much for these guys,” he says again. “I’m really sorry your vacation got hijacked by everything.”

“Nope,” MJ says. “No apologies Parker or I’m taking the t-shirt back.”

“But I’m being serious. None of you signed up for this - Ned we’ve already talked about this but the rest of you. You knowing about me and my life...that means you’re in danger and I can’t have that, do you understand?”

“Yeah sure we do Parker,” Flash says. “But we weren’t about to leave you, were we? It’s not like you forced this upon us, you did your best to keep us away from the threat, to keep us safe. How on earth were you to know that the train that HIT you, would be the train we were on? Stop beating yourself up. It ain’t cool.”

Peter’s shoulders slump and MJ immediately notices the tears welling up in his eyes. She puts a hand on his forearm and rubs it, reassuringly. 

“Flash is right, Peter. And what’s happened these last couple days. I’m actually glad you’ve not had to deal with it alone. I guess this whole superhero gig is lonely, right?”

“It is now. It wasn’t...before,” Peter looks across at Happy, the only person in the room who truly knows what Peter went through and shares the same grief. Happy gives him a smile and a nod, as if to encourage him to continue. “Mr Stark was someone I could always turn to. He would teach me, tell me off - he even took my suit away once.” He pauses, and stifles a sniff. “I miss him. A lot. And it’s hard when he’s everywhere you look, you know? Like, before, if this had happened, I’d have had back-up, I could’ve made sure you were away from the trouble and safe. Now you’re all my responsibility…”

“No we’re not,” Ned says. “No one knows we know. So it’s all good. Unless the nurses and doctors here go rogue and become some weird super-villain medical army or something.”

Peter looks at Happy again and Happy gives him another nod, another unspoken sentiment - this time saying _they’re good, kid, let them help you_. “Just... when we get back to school can you just pretend like nothing’s changed? And yeah that means you get to be an ass to me Flash.”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” he says with a wink. “Just know in future I don’t mean any of it, OK? We got your back.”

For the first time, Peter looks and Flash and knows he means it. He smiles.


	7. Excuses and candy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say a HUGE thanks to everyone who is reading this and enjoying it and commenting. I’ve done a few fics over the years and I think this is the first one where I’ve had regular readers leave multiple comments, and they’ve all been so so awesome to read!
> 
> There’s more fluff here. Make the most of it, I think we all know it can’t last ;)

Flash Thompson is the king of bullshit. He knows this. But even he is scratching his head wondering how the hell they’re going to explain away the current situation. There are two main cover stories and one minor one he knows they need to come up with, and fast.

The first is, if they were on a private jet commandeered from his father, why wouldn’t it just fly back to New York from Scotland, where they’d told Mr Harrington they’d gone? 

Secondly, how did Peter Parker end up with them when he was supposed to be staying with relatives in Berlin? Why would he go to them, and not to the rest of the class trip?

And finally, what they hell were they going to say about their lost luggage?

He’d promised - they’d all promised - they would help Peter keep his Spider-Manning a secret. But if they couldn’t come up with a rock solid excuse for when they arrived at Heathrow to take the same flight home as their classmates, there would be more questions, more suspicion and an eventual identity-reveal/broken promise.

They’d been put in the waiting room while Peter and Happy took the call from Dr Banner in conference with the British SHIELD doctors, hoping upon hope he’d be signed off for travel and they could all go home. 

“So what are we going to say?,” he asks. 

“I think we should just say we flew back to London as soon as the airspace was clear because we wanted to see our classmates,” MJ says. “You can blame a lot on emotional trauma and Harrington doesn’t know how to handle that so he’ll buy it.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. People do weird things when they’re in traumatic situations.”

“What about Happy?”

“What about him? We just call him your personal assistant - sent by your parents to ensure your care and safety.”

Flash nods his head, it’s actually not a bad idea, he thinks. 

“And Peter? How the hell do we explain that?”

“He joined us when we were in Berlin because we text him to say we were hanging back for the day and did he want to do some sightseeing with us. And he decided to stay?”

“Tenuous but it could work.”

“To be honest, nobody really pays much attention to him,” MJ says nonchalantly. 

“Except us,” Ned says.

“Except us.”

“Well I guess it could work, so long as we all stick to the same stories if we’re asked?” Betty says. “What about the luggage?”

“Lost in transit?” Ned suggests. “Happens all the time! Anyway whatever it is we decide, so long as we all say the same things we’re golden.”

The group rehearse the stories, role-playing situations to test their skills and to be fair, they’re all pretty good actors, they discover. By the time Happy comes to get them they’re all far more relaxed about the forthcoming trip.

“Good news, he’s been cleared to go!” Happy says as he enters the room. “He’s done a few tests walking and he’s doing a fairly good job at hiding the limp. He’s still exhausted though, we’ll have to keep an eye on him. Agents are just going out to buy him some clothes to wear home and then we’re good to go.”

“That’s great news,” Betty says. “We can all sit with him on the plane, right?”

“I don’t see why not. I’ll need one of you to make sure he takes his painkillers though, you know how stubborn he is.”

MJ raises her hand. “I’ll do it. I’m immune to his bullshit.” Ned smiles.

“We’re flying United, aren’t we? 6pm?” Flash asks.

“Yup,” Happy says. “We have to be there three hours before so we need to get our asses in gear and be heading out in about an hour. Make sure you have all your stuff,” he adds before heading back out. 

“Give me your passport numbers,” Flash says. “Don’t ask - just give them. And I need Happy’s and Peter’s.”

They all, with a bit of hesitancy pull their passports from their backpacks and handbags. MJ has Peter’s, one of the items he’d asked her to keep safe when they were in Prague. Ned goes to find Happy and returns with his documentation.

Five minutes later, Flash sits back with a smug grin. “All done,” he says.

“What?” Ned says.

“We’ll I’m not flying home in business class alone, now am I?”

“WHAT!?!?” Ned shouts. “Dude you can’t do that!”

“I just did! I will say it was my parent’s treat for us all after the trauma of the vacation. Peter gets a more comfortable seat-slash-bed to sleep and better food - not to mention it’s unlimited - we get to live the Flash life, and because we’re separate from the class, no questions. Worth every cent on my platinum Amex lemme tell you!”

MJ playfully punches Flash in the arm. “You’re actually not that bad under that douchebag exterior, are you Thompson?” 

He blushes slightly. “Least we can do for Parker, eh?”

An hour passes quickly and the time comes for the group to head to the airport. Peter gets to the car under his own steam although the short trip wipes him out and he sleeps for the 45-minute journey, laying across the second row of back seats, his head in MJ’s lap. 

It takes some effort to get him to wake up when they pull into the short stay car park, where a SHIELD operative masquerading as a car park attendant is waiting to take the car back to HQ. MJ wraps an arm around his waist to act as a support and Peter drapes his arm across her shoulder as they walk slowly towards the terminal. He’s not doing a great job of masking the fact this trip is taking a lot of effort and is uncomfortable at best. But their attempt at looking like a couple, arm-in-arm, is at least accurate. Happy maintains the role of Flash’s bodyguard by sticking to his side and they walk just ahead of MJ and Peter, with Betty and Ned following, protecting the teen from all angles. 

The class is in the queue to check in, and they wander over to see them. It’s a surprisingly emotional reunion. Flash takes the lead, thanking Mr Harrington for keeping in touch with them and giving him their carefully constructed cover stories which, unsurprisingly, he buys completely. “Oh and by the way,” he finishes. “My parents paid for me and these guys to go business class so, we’re going to the executive lounge now.”

“Unfair!” Brad exclaims, looking at Flash and the group with cynicism. “Why don’t we get that? They just get to do whatever they want.” He might be five years older, but he acts like a 12-year-old, MJ thinks, as she continues to hold up her boyfriend. She can hear Peter is struggling slightly, his breaths speeding up with the effort of staying upright on his leg. 

“When you have a life like mine you can do what the heck you want, Brad. So get over it,” Flash says. He looks across to MJ and sees the worried look on her face, and Peter’s pale features under his tipped cap. “Anyway Mr Harrington we’re checked in so we’re going now.”

“What’s up with Parker,” Brad asks. Shit.

“Er, he, er, got food poisoning. We tried one of those battered Mars bars in Scotland and it didn’t agree with him. He’s been right under it last couple days,” Ned blurts. “If you ever go to Scotland, just don’t bother trying it.”

Brad appears to buy it, saying nothing and turning his back on the group. Nice, MJ thinks. What a douchebag.

They say quick farewells before Happy ushers them on, through the fast track security and into the executive lounge where they can sit down in peace and quiet until boarding. Peter falls back to sleep on a corner sofa, a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“When is he due his next meds?” MJ asks. 

“Not for another couple hours,” Happy looks worried. “Anyway he’s resting now, lets get some drinks and food.”

“Happy…” she braces herself to ask something she’s meant to since it all happened but hasn’t really had the time to ask. “Peter’s aunt...does she know about Peter’s life, you know? Does she know what’s happened?”

“Yeah she found out after Homecoming, when Tony gave him his suit back and she found him parading around his bedroom in it.”

She laughed. Typical Peter.

“I’ve been in touch with May throughout, you know… I couldn’t keep it from her. She’s been worried and freaked out, of course. But she knows I’m taking care of him, that we’re taking care of him. She’s picking us up from the airport.”

“Good,” she says. “I just wasn’t sure, like, when I see her, whether I’d have needed to play coy, you know?”

Happy smiles. “She knows you all know, I told her. Actually, she wants to have you all over for dinner one night soon to talk about it. If I were you, I’d suggest takeout. That woman is amazing but her cooking, not so much.” MJ laughs.

Peter wakes up in time to stuff his face with a cheese and ham baguette, take some more pain medicine and raid the posh candy stand in the corner. He looks better for the rest, and is able to take himself to the restroom without too much trouble. While he’s in there, MJ loads a bag of candy up for him to take on the plane, thinking sugar might be a good ‘pick-me-up’ during the flight. 

The boarding gate number appears and it’s a 20-minute walk away. MJ can visibly see the cogs turn in Peter’s mind as he tries to work out how he’s going to manage that. She’s trying to think of a way of talking to him about it without appearing overly fussing when, to her surprise, she sees Flash walking back into the lounge with a wheelchair from the special assistance desk, stopping beside him. “Sit,” he says. “You’re not walking to that gate.”

“It’s OK, I can do it,” he says, pushing hard against the couch to stand up, lamely trying to put a brave face on it but ultimately failing. He sees the look MJ is giving him and shrinks in on himself slightly. He knows he’s being stubborn.

“Pete, you can’t,” Ned says. “I know you want to but you’re only going to make yourself feel worse. Let us do this.”

“But what if the class sees?”

“They won’t. We can ditch it a gate early or something. Come on,” Flash pats the seat. “Sit.”

Peter gingerly sits down in the chair and buries his head in his hands. As if accepting help is some kind of failure. Flash signals for MJ to push him, assuming she’d be the only one he’d accept help from and he’s right, as he seems to be unable to resist when she’s involved. “It’s best we do this Peter, you know that,” MJ says to him over his shoulder. “Rather this than us having to carry you because you’ve passed out and then we get bumped off the plane because you’re a medical emergency. Don’t be an idiot.”

“Ouch,” he says, peering back to look at her. “I know, you’re right. Thank you for looking out for me.”

“I’d be a very shit girlfriend if I didn’t,” she chides. She doesn’t see the small smile he can’t help but produce on the word ‘girlfriend’.

As promised, they ditch the chair one boarding gate early and Peter gets on the plane under his own steam. For the first time in their lives - not for Flash, of course - they turn left instead of right. The business class cabin is so much roomier, and there’s little pods for each of them. Because of the late upgrade the group is split up a bit, Flash on one row and Happy four seats across. He’s managed to ensure Ned and Betty are together, as well as MJ and Peter, five and seven rows back respectively. Happy and MJ get Peter comfortable in his seat, and Flash shows him how to turn the seat into a mini bed once they’re airborne. There’s a little partition between Peter and MJ’s seats, and she insists it stays open so she can keep check. “If he needs anything - if you need anything, you just come get me, OK?” Happy says. She smiles. 

Thanks to Flash’s generous gesture, the group has a very comfortable flight home. Peter and MJ work their way through the gigantic bag of sweets she stole from the lounge and enjoy everything off the menu - Peter three times over. His flight home is just a cycle of eating, power-napping and laughing with MJ. He’s sore and he’s tired but with MJ next to him, caring for him, laughing with him, he’s never been happier. 

With a couple of hours of the flight remaining, she comes round to his side and perches himself on the end of the seat-bed, blocking off his view of the mini television, which was playing some Star Wars movie she didn’t know the name of. He rests his leg on her thigh, and she stuffs her little pillow under his knee. They sit and talk and throw gummy bears at one another. The little sparks of contact they share are everything Peter hoped for and more. 

“You’re right, it does look better broken,” he says, observing her necklace.

“I know right? It’s a one-of-a-kind now isn’t it?” she agrees. 

“MJ I’m so sorry for everything that happened on this trip. I had this plan, this stupid plan, I wrote it all down and I was going to buy you that necklace and give it to you in Paris...“

She interrupts him with a fleeting kiss on the lips.

“And… you kissed me, what?” he says, stunned.

“I don’t really have much luck, when it comes to getting close to people…”

“I really like you,” he interrupts.

“I really like you too,” she responds. He leans in and kisses her properly this time. It’s brief and slightly awkward, but it’s full of longing. “Would you...would you like to maybe...go out with me sometime?”

“Sure,” she says, smiling. “What do you wanna do?”

“Wanna see what it’s like being me, maybe swing through the city? We can go to Junior’s for cheesecake after?”

“Um, yeah, that could be fun,” MJ says. “Not until you’re better though.”

“Deal,” and she extends her hand for him to shake it. He grabs it and almost telepathically, they decide now would be a good time for them to create their own little handshake. He couldn’t think of any better way to wile away the time.


	8. Friends of Spider-Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, so it’s my birthday this weekend and I’ll probably be too busy to update so I’m just leaving this here for your enjoyment :)
> 
> I guess this is a bit of a filler chapter, big dollop of fluff, with a dash of angst I guess.
> 
> I just thought it’d be nice to see our squad meeting up AFTER the trip....

It’s three days after they get back that they’re all invited to Peter Parker’s home. Happy sends them all a text, with a day and a time and instructions on how to get there. It’s all a bit cloak and dagger, Flash thinks, but then again when you’re Spider-Man it’s probably best to keep things on the down-low.

So here he is, on a Tuesday evening, standing outside a rather standard apartment block on the corner of 43rd Avenue and 164th Street wondering if he’ll get mugged for his new Gucci sneakers. There’s no sign of MJ, Ned and Betty yet, and he doesn’t really want to buzz in alone. He decides to wait outside until there’s strength in numbers. The district is a little rough around the edges for sure, and a world away from his eight-bedroom family residence in Forest Hills Gardens. 

His judgement of the area, the lack of cleanliness, the array of old affordable cars and the absolute overkill on bodegas and launderettes is interrupted when Ned and MJ walk round the corner.

“Hey Flash,” MJ says. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

“Well, Happy sends a text, you do as he says, right?”

“Pretty cool though eh?” Course I know where he lives ‘cause I’m like his best friend,” he chuckles. “Betty said she’ll be here a bit late, she’s got to finish her Midtown News item for tomorrow.”

So, the trio buzz on the intercom and it’s Peter’s voice on the speaker. “Come on up, it’s the third door on the left, seventh floor. Um, elevator’s broken by the way.”

Fourteen flights of stairs later and with aching quads, the trio finally make it to the front door. Peter already has the door open in readiness for their arrival and Flash can’t help but notice how much better he’s looking since their flight home. He automatically goes in for a hug to say hello, and Peter reciprocates. Ned gives the handshake and hug treatment while MJ hangs back before holding his hand and giving him a peck on the lips.

“Hi guys!!” May almost shouts from the kitchen. “I’m just sorting out some snacks for you all, make yourself comfortable!”

The apartment is small and chaotic, Flash observes. There’s a stack of mail on the counter, half-emptied removal boxes stacked in the corner and pieces of artwork resting against the walls. In fact the only picture that’s hanging is a photograph of Peter and May with a man who he assumes was his uncle. 

Generally though, nothing seems to fit in its place, and the sofa really isn’t big enough for more than two people, so he wonders where everyone is going to sit. The answer, judging by Ned’s instant sitting down on the large blue floral rug that covers the hardwood, is the floor. He takes a position by the wall, resting up against it and facing the sofa. Peter still has a slight limp and lowers himself carefully onto the sofa. MJ immediately tucks herself in next to him.

“How’s it feeling Parker?” he asks, gesturing to the teen’s leg.

“Getting there thanks,” he says. “I saw Dr Banner yesterday, he thinks it’ll be fully healed by the weekend. He says I was lucky not to have broken it completely. Would’ve needed surgery to pin it all if that happened.”

“No Spider-manning yet then?”

“Nope, no nothing. I’ve not left the flat - it was awful getting up the stairs when I got back, and I’ve not really felt like tackling them again.”

“Yeah he’s under house arrest,” May jokes as she comes through with two bowls of chips in her hands and a bottle of Pepsi under her arm. “He’s not supposed to put too much weight on it. If he can’t leave here, then he can’t get into any trouble. He is literally climbing the walls though!”

The youngsters work their way through the chips as Betty and Happy arrive and suddenly the cramped space is even tighter. The noise of all the differing conversations is deafening and MJ gets the impression it’s bothering Peter a little bit. She looks at Flash and raises a finger to her lips, adding “Take one, pass it on,” with a wink. The noise slowly dies down to quiet conversation and the crunching of chips, and Peter gently squeezes MJ’s hand, silently thanking her for taking control of the situation.

“So,” May says, tapping the glass she’s holding. “I think you all know why I invited you here but before we all talk Spidey stuff, I just want to say thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. For being there for Peter and for looking after him and supporting him.”

“May…” Peter winces, embarrassed.

“No Pete I mean it. I wasn’t there, and Happy wasn’t there for a lot of it, and without these guys you’d have been in a lot more trouble.”

She rushes off to another room and comes back in with four little paper bags. “These are for you, it’s not much I’m afraid but I just wanted to show my appreciation.”

Flash is taken aback. He’s always been lavished with gifts, his parents throw them at him all the time to try to make up for the fact they’re never around. But this time is different. 

Because in this apartment, this tiny, unfurnished chaotic apartment, there is so much love. It seeps from every fibre of plaster and fabric. It’s been worked hard for, it’s been patched together with whatever the Parkers can get their hands on and yet at the same time, it’s perfect for them. Scatty and messy and above all, there’s an unavoidable sense of fun. 

He knows Peter lost his parents at a young age, that he lost his uncle too. And he knows May, this beautiful effervescent woman who he almost wished was his own aunt, had raised Peter and then probably pushed her own grief aside after her husband’s death to care for him. He guesses she’s working every hour God sends to make ends meet, and he knows they don’t have a lot because, among other things, Peter’s wardrobe never changes. He never comes into school with a new jacket, or new shoes. In fact the only thing that ever changed was his backpack. 

He looks at the little bag in his hands - this gift that’s undoubtedly full of careful thought and genuine thanks - and then at his friends, who all decide to open them at the same time. Inside is a small bag of jellybeans, a Starbucks gift card and a Spider-man keyring, upon which is a key.

Flash holds it up. “What’s this for?”

“It’s a key to this apartment,” May says. “You are part of the family now. Anyone who looks out for Peter, well.. I look out for too. You need anything, maybe a place to stay, or you want to see Peter, or you need to get him home one night because he’s got himself into a sticky situation, you come here.”

“Wow. Thanks Mrs Parker,” Ned says, getting up to hug her. “This is really special.”

“Listen, you may not want to come back-” 

“Certainly not when she’s cooking,” Peter jokes, interrupting.

“Hey young man!!” May exclaims, throwing a tea towel at him, which he anticipates and catches before it even gets close to his head.

“As I was saying, you might not want to come over, you might never need to. But it’s there if you want.”

Happy interjects. “You guys have been through a lot together. Something you don’t get over easily I’m sure. And as much as anything else, you need a safe space to share in that experience where no-one is going to hear you. May and Peter figured here would be as good a place as any, and I agree.”

Flash is dumbfounded. He grips the key in his hand before getting his key fob from his back pocket and trying to connect the rings, fumbling with it before eventual success. 

“You alright Flash?” Peter asks. “If you don’t want the key you don’t have to have it. Honestly I won’t be offended.”

“Sorry, Parker, course I want to keep it. This is, like, a real honour. I don’t really know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything then,” Peter smiles. 

The rest of the evening is spent talking through everything that happened. They order pizza and they laugh and they cry and they hug. It’s a cathartic experience for everyone but it is especially for Peter, who for the first time sits and talks to his peers about the superhero stuff he’d previously kept to himself. May and Happy keep watch from the kitchen, and allow him to talk. Every time May is about to freak out, Happy just squeezes her hand to stop her. 

He answers all their questions, no matter how trivial. He talks about the bite, how it felt to almost die from the mutation, how his fever rose to 109 before finally breaking. He talks briefly about what happened with Uncle Ben, about how he got recruited by Tony Stark and the trip to Germany. He shows them the film of his trip which has Ned rolling on the floor laughing - especially at the part where he’s on the front page of the paper pictured saving the Chancellor’s daughter - and it’s a brief moment of light relief as Peter goes on to talk about Toomes, Homecoming, Titan, the Snap and, finally, the Compound battle. 

“There was this silence, and then all the bad guys, they start turning to dust, just like I had. I knew what he’d done,” he says, wiping his nose. MJ puts an arm round him. “Like, he was looking at me and I was talking to him, but...well he wasn’t really there. All I could say was how sorry I was. That we’d won. Didn’t feel like winning. He died in front of me and Pepper and Rhodey.”

“That must have been horrible,” Betty says. “I’m so glad you got to see him though before, well....”

“Yeah, me too,” he pauses. “That was the worst thing Beck did actually.”

“What did he do?” Ned asks.

“Well before I got hit by the train, he tricked me into thinking I was at Europol with Fury. Course it wasn’t Fury at all, it’s him, and then he totally throws me off course with all these tricks, all these illusions. I’m there on the floor and suddenly there’s a headstone with Mr Stark’s name on it.”

Happy bristles for the first time and it’s May squeezing his hand to stop him from reacting. 

“And he says...I’ll never forget this. He said ‘if you were good enough, maybe Tony would still be alive’.”

“Holy shit he said that? You know that’s not true, right?” Ned exclaims.

“Well… I mean I could’ve done the snap. I had the gauntlet in my arms...” Peter is looking into a space beyond Flash. Flash can’t help but wonder if, somehow, he’s back looking at that headstone.

“But what about what you said Dr Strange predicted, that there was only one way? Tony was the one way, right?” Betty adds. 

“Hmm…” he hums, and Flash watches the cogs of guilt turning in Peter’s mind. “Anyway next thing I know, Iron Man is coming out the grave, spiders coming out his eyes, I can see his skeleton. Every time I sleep I see that. So, yeah, Beck did a real number on me.” He’s sad, numb, and somehow accepting of that fact.

“Sweetheart, I think maybe we should see if we can get you some help to deal with that,” May says, coming behind the sofa and draping her arms round him, kissing the top of his hair, like she always does when she’s comforting him. “We’re none of us counsellors. We are all happy to listen but those nightmares aren’t going to go away on their own.” 

“Agreed Parker. That’s some messed up shit right there,” Flash quips. “Sorry about the language Mrs Parker.”

“I think tonight we can call a pass on language.”

Peter agrees, before carrying on. He feels more in control if he just keeps talking and so he tells them all about EDITH, and the battle on the bridge and what actually happened up there, how he was engulfed in black and had to use his sixth sense to find the drones and bring them down. How he was almost shot in head by Beck’s final trick. MJ gasps at that final point, especially because he’d made the revelation with no hint of drama, just an “it is what it is” tone of voice. 

Once he’s finished, he doesn’t really know what to say. He just excuses himself and goes to the bathroom.

The group has now seen both sides of the superhero life. The physical dangers and consequences, and now the mental ones. Here before them, their classmate/best friend/boyfriend has gone through more in the last three years than anyone would ever imagine in their lifetime. And somehow, his body seems equipped to handle the persistent damage life dumps upon him. Flash just hopes his mind heals as quickly as his body. 

His heart, though? That’s another matter. Flash knows his heart is separate from his body and his mind because he remembers how much of a shell he was in school after his uncle’s murder. And he remembers watching from afar as he saw Peter walk back into school after the blip, a slow shadow against the rushed excitement of everyone else. He remembers watching him hug Ned, and how long they embraced, and how Peter’s shoulders shook from the crying. And now he’s seeing the tears well up again in Peter’s eyes and he understands. He understands that, just like anyone else, he has emotions. And even if he can heal fast he has to release, somehow. In his own life he knows that need to release - the fact he belittles others to make himself feel good is besides the point. If he didn’t do that he’d end up back on the anti-depressants his therapist prescribed him before he joined Midtown.

As Peter returns to the living room, Flash opens the bag of jellybeans from May’s gift and offers them around. It felt like it was time to break the tension a bit.

“So Pete. Now we know everything, and holy crap if that wasn’t the most attention-seeking shit I’ve ever heard-” he winks at Peter. “What do you want us to do about it?”

Peter chuckles. “Nothing really Flash. Just don’t tell anyone. I’ll deal with the rest. But I gotta say, like May did before, thank you guys. Seriously.” He pauses again. “You know I never wanted any of you to get involved, because anyone who knows about me and my life is in danger. If a bad guy after me finds out you know me, well that means trouble. But here you are.”

“Here we are,” MJ says. “And I think you know you aren’t getting rid of us either.”

“Nope. So yeah if, outside of here, you could act like nothing’s happened and nothing’s changed, then that keeps you safe and it means I might actually be able to sleep at night.”

“Sure thing loser,” Flash says, popping a couple more jellybeans in his mouth. “And Mrs Parker, might I suggest we have a night like this a bit more often? I sort of feel like this has been good for all of us and, you know, means we can keep tabs on him?”

“I don’t need tabs, honestly, I’m fine,” Peter claims. MJ gives him a look that tells him he’s not getting a choice.

“So...you’re saying we should have maybe, monthly Spidey’s support network meetings then?” May suggests. “I certainly wouldn’t mind. It’s up to you guys though, no pressure from me or Happy here.”

“I like it. Spidey’s Support Network. Who’s in?” Flash puts his hand out, and one by one the group all join him. Peter smiles, wistfully, as he joins them. “What, Parker?”

“Oh just reminds me of a story Banner and Scott told me. Before they all went back in time, Cap apparently said ‘Whatever it takes’, and they all put their hands in just like this.”

“Well if it’s good enough for the Avengers, it’s good enough for us,” MJ says.


	9. S**t hits the fan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thanks for all your likes and comments and - for the first time ever!! - I’ve gone over 9,000 hits so thank you! 
> 
> It couldn’t stay fluffy forever...right?

She jumps out of her skin when from seemingly nowhere, Peter - Spider-Man - flies in from her left, swings around a lamp-post and apologises profusely for being late. He’s not late at all, she thinks, but she is thinking maybe he should be apologising for almost giving her a heart attack instead.

It’s good to see him again though, and back to his usual self. He’s full of beans, and she can’t help but smile a bit by the fact he’s clearly excited to spend time with her and share the whole Spider-Man thing with someone else, someone new.

“You ready?” he asks. She’s not, but she agrees anyway. (He’d asked her if she wanted to go swinging through the city with him and he’d given her those puppy-dog eyes and even though vertigo was a big thing for her she found herself saying yes.) Before she has a chance to even brace herself for what is to come, he’s got her and she’s off. And holy SHIT, this is frightening. She can’t look, she can’t watch, and it takes all her effort not to throw up down the back of his repaired suit, swallowing down the nausea with every stomach-churning drop. 

Then he’s dropping her from a great height and she thinks, if she ever survives the fall, she’s going to kill him. Sure enough he gets her in good time - _of course he’s in control of the situation, he’s Spider-Man for christ’s sake_ \- and they’re off again. It’s about a 20-minute ride all told but it feels like a lifetime and by the time he’s deposited her near Madison Square Gardens, she’s so grateful to be on dry land she’s almost tempted to kiss the New York sidewalk. 

“I’m never doing that again,” she forcefully declares after she finally lets go and he really doesn’t seem bothered by that ultimate rejection. He just shrugs his shoulders, as if to dismiss it entirely, convinced she’ll come round to it eventually. “Well I guess I should go,” he says, clearly not wanting any passers by to stop him or get any ideas about the two of them. “I’ll see you soon,” he says as he jumps up onto the lamp-post to begin his trip back to whatever alley he’s left his clothes in.

As he’s waving at her, and she’s thinking how utterly absurd this all is - she’s dating a High School Dork-slash-Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man - there’s a breaking news bulletin on the big screen outside MSG.

What happens next, happens in a high-speed blur and in slow-motion at the same time. She watches him, watching the news. She hears Beck. She hears Peter’s voice - ‘execute them all’ - she hears the grating rants of that right-wing jerk Jameson. And then she hears his name. She sees his picture - his High School YEARBOOK photo. This cannot be happening. 

He looks down at her. The mask hides most of his expression but his entire body language and the fact there’s barely any black around the eyes tells her he’s in shock. People around her are getting their phones out, they’re pointing, she’s hearing them shout, baying for his blood. This cannot be happening.

“Go!!” She shouts. Whether he can hear her over the din and the numb shock of what’s happened she doesn’t know but she shouts again and she waves her arms and he gets the message, swinging away frantically.

She gets her phone out, opens whatsapp (encrypted) and types. 

**FOS SQUAD**

**MJ** : Guys we have a Peter situation.  
**Betty** : I just saw  
**Flash** : This is BS. We have to help him. Meet at Peter’s?  
**Ned** : We can’t do that - the police will go there.  
**MJ** : Where then?  
**Flash** : How about mine? Parents away. Head to Forest Hills station I’ll pick you up. Get here ASAP.  
**Ned** : Where’s Peter?  
**MJ** : I don’t know, I told him to run. Can someone call May? I’ll call Happy.  
**Betty** : I can’t believe this is happening. How could Beck do this?  
**MJ** : Cause he’s a prick.  
**Flash** : Just can you get here? We’re not safe. No one will think about coming here.  
**Ned** : I’ve just called May, she’s with Happy. I gave Happy your number Flash, to get your address. Hope that’s OK.  
**Flash** : Sure thing. We need Peter to know we’re here.  
**MJ** : I’ll keep trying. Getting on the metro now, will be as quick as I can, coming from MSG.

MJ texts Happy to say she’s on her way. He’s immediately replying, and says he’s already been in touch with Pepper Potts to get a team of lawyers on board to defend Peter and to sue the Bugle for identifying a minor at the very least. 

The ride to Forest Hills takes an hour. She covers her face with the I Heart NYC cap she’s bought from a cheap souvenir shop along the way, just in case. The good thing about New York though is that people going about their daily business take no notice of the people around them but she cannot be too careful. Her heart is pounding. She gets her phone out and makes the mistake of looking on social media. Spider-Man is the global trending topic, Quentin Beck second, Stark Tech third. Breitbart and the Bugle are going off on the Stark connection, revelling in being able to discredit the fallen hero. But as she scrolls through she sees other stories, from CNN and HuffPost and Buzzfeed - “100 times Spider-Man was the best of us” is the title of one story. She smiles as she scrolls through and looks at all the times he’s helped people and she knows that’s not even the half of it. She prays the people of New York and the world recognise a fake when they see one and take his side. She’s not a religious person but she looks skywards and pleads with any higher deity that’ll listen to protect Peter and keep him safe. 

She opens the last message she got from Peter. “Be there in two minutes.”

She types. “Open WA.” The message is delivered.

She opens Whatsapp and types: _I don’t know if you’ll get this or if you do, when you’ll get it, but we’re going to fix this OK? Me and the guys are headed to Flash’s place, it’s in Forest Hills, will message the address when I get there. Come there. We will be safe. May and Happy are meeting us there too. Together we’ll work this out. I promise. Don’t do anything stupid, OK? We kinda need you.”_ She watches the little grey tick turn into two grey ticks and then turn blue. He’s seen it.

She sighs deeply and stares outside the window at nothing in particular until she gets to her stop. Flash is waiting outside with Ned and Betty in the back. She gets in the front passenger seat and he speeds away. “I’ve messaged him on whatsapp. Hopefully he’ll come.”

“Good job. Happy and May are at the house now. May’s...well she’s in a bit of a state,” Betty says. 

“I can imagine. I can’t believe what just happened,” MJ says, inspecting her shaking hands. Suddenly her phone pings and she fumbles it from her pocket. “It’s Peter,” she says, opening the message. “Just says OK. That’s it. He better bloody come, I’m not having him do some self-sacrificing shit on our behalf.”

“You kinda know that’s what he’s going to do though,” Flash says. “Just message him back and tell him he needs to come, even if it’s just for a half hour before he feels the need to run again. He needs to get out that suit, he needs to speak with Happy and see his aunt. We need a plan that we can all help with and stick to.”

MJ types out the message Flash suggested and the address and hits send. The single grey tick doesn’t change.

“I know. I’m really hoping Happy has some ideas,” Ned said. 

They pull up outside Flash’s home and it’s beyond whatever it was she imagined it’d be. It has double gates at the front with a security guard in a little hut outside. It has a wide driveway with poplar trees on either side and as the place comes into view, MJ sees it’s not a house, it’s a MANSION. Inside, it’s sparsely decorated, shades of grey dominating the decor and modern art on the walls. There’s not a fixture or fitting that didn’t cost a fortune. She hears May and Happy’s voices echoing through the halls. “They’re in the kitchen,” Flash says, tossing his car keys on the sideboard and leading them through.

When they get to the kitchen they find May sobbing into her coffee cup with Happy stood beside her, rubbing her back soothingly. She hears their arrival and looks up, her face blotchy and red from the tears. “Oh guys thank God you’re here,” she says, shakily. “I’ll make everyone a drink, do you want a drink?”

“You’re going nowhere,” Happy says. “I’ll get a coffee pot on.”

“Have any of you seen Peter?” May asks.

“I was with him when the news broke on one of those big screens outside Madison Square Gardens,” MJ said. “This doesn’t feel real.”

“Well it’s not, is it? That video is fake!” Flash says.

“But he still revealed his identity,” MJ said. “That’s not fake, is it?”

Ned rubs his face with his hands. “Like, what is he going to do now? He said if people knew who he was, the bad guys, he’d be in more danger, and so would we! This is just so wrong.”

“Mrs Parker, I’ve messaged Peter and told him we’re all here. I told him to come even if just for a short while to see you and to hear what we’ve come up with. I’m hoping he’s listened.”

“OK...thanks MJ.”

“I’ve just been speaking to Pepper,” Happy says. “I think everything will be OK in the end - it’s just a shock and a mess right now. There was so much footage of what happened at the bridge from bystanders that we should be able to use that information as evidence against the claims. What bothers me is that Beck filmed that, somehow. And it got out, somehow. Which means he has at least one person working with him to have doctored that and to have issued it to the Bugle. It’s them we need to find.”

Flash suddenly realises something. “I have evidence! I think?”

“What do you mean? You weren’t there?” MJ deadpans.

“Well no I did a video diary. Not like my usual live broadcasts, but I couldn’t sleep after the day we’d had, I went to the bathroom and I just recorded everything that had happened. I did plan to put it on my channel but I guess I just forgot.”

“Let’s see it then,” Ned says.

Flash pulls out his phone and plays it. They’re surprised when they see Flash’s tired and un-coiffed hair on the screen, and they’re more surprised when they hear his words. 

“Jeez you really are Spidey’s number one fan aren’t you?” MJ jokes. “Seriously though, would this count as evidence in support of Peter?”

“I think it could,” Happy says. “Let me call Pepper and ask what the lawyers think. Can you send me that video? I’ll forward it on.”

“Happy do you think if we all did similar posts, or a post together, it would strengthen the case for him?” Betty asks.

“It could. Again, let me check with Pepper and we can find out. If they think it’s a good thing it might not be a bad idea to post this quickly. Send it out to the more reliable news channels.”

So Happy makes the call, and while he’s pacing up and down the conservatory, the gang decide they should just make a video anyway. Just in case. 

“We should go to my den in the basement,” Flash says. “There’s a massive blank wall down there we can use as a backdrop. We don’t want anyone knowing where we are.”

“Well I can doctor the date and the IP address on it so it matches your original post maybe?” Ned says. 

“Good, right...let’s do this.”

They hit record.


	10. Don’t let them see

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the continued love for this, it’s been sooooo good to write and I’m boosted by everyone’s comments and kudos, so thank you thank you thank you!!
> 
> And now...for some shameless and no doubt unnecessary whump!

He was SO stupid. So naive! Why on earth did he think for a second that it was OK for anyone to know about his life as Spider-Man let alone his one remaining blood relative, his best friend, his girlfriend and two other people who - to be fair - weren’t his friends before but kind of are now? Their lives were now as over as his. Stupid, stupid Parker.

He’s swinging as fast as he can fire webs. He’s grabbed his backpack for once at least, although now he’s not sure where he’s heading. He’s got no idea where he can stop, only that wherever he does set himself down, he’s not got long before either a mob of people, a news crew or the NYPD take him down. 

He can hear helicopters in pursuit, so he knows he needs to take shelter somewhere and fast, at least so he can get changed and get them off his trail. He sees the Highline on his left and thinks it’s potentially a good spot, the underside of stairwell at the end of the popular walkway as good a place as any. It’s cumbersome but he webs his backpack to the underside, and slowly undresses while still stuck upside down. It’s not something he normally does but he manages it and he’s able to emerge from the nook under the stairwell back in regular clothing, fairly confident no one has seen him change. He pulls his hoodie over his head, puts on his sunglasses and headphones and makes his way to the metro. He needs to get back to Queens.

His phone buzzes in his pocket incessantly. Nine missed calls from May, five from Happy, one text message from MJ and a WhatsApp message. He opens it and it registers with him - so it’s Forest Hills instead, fair enough - but all he can type is “OK” before turning the phone off completely. He’s numb. He knows he’s not thinking straight. He wants their help, he knows he probably needs it. But at the same time being anywhere near them right now means they’re in serious danger and he just can’t risk that, or handle the consequences of that.. 

The Metro line is blissfully quiet but devoid of air, and he tucks himself into a corner where he’s hoping no one will disturb him, or indeed notice him at all. He cannot relax for a single second, his leg jittering and his heart pounding. He’s just a kid from Midtown High, he is NOT a terrorist. He goes over everything that happened in Europe again, thinks back to the battle on the bridge and makes his head ache trying to work out HOW Beck did it. He was there the whole time, how did he film that monologue? He remembers what he said. He knows he said “execute them all”, but that was about the drone commands. Maybe EDITH has a record of the conversation? He’s unsure if EDITH is the same as Karen? Not that he has the glasses with him now to check, they’re back at the apartment. Shit, what if the police are raiding it right now??

His mind is racing. It’s all too much to think about, but at the same time he knows he has to think about it. He feels his breaths increase, the panic rising. He has to regain control but it’s slipping from his fingers. He squeezes his eyes shut and prays his stop is soon. 

He looks up at the little map above the window and the little flashing LED indicating where he is. His stop is not soon. In fact, it’s another seven stops before Forest Hills, and then he wonders whether he should just bypass it and keep going to the end of the line and work out the rest from there or get off early and lose himself somewhere for a while.

But then he thinks of the promise he’s made MJ and he thinks he owes her at least that before he never sees her again. He gulps down the lump in his throat. This is his life now, on the run and alone, if you can call that living. 

Clearly he loses all track of time because suddenly “Next stop, Forest Hills” bellows over the tannoy and he decides he really should alight here. His body feels heavy, no doubt through the shock, and he trudges into the sunlight. It’s a hot day and he’s sweltering in his disguise but there’s no chance of him taking the hoodie off. He knows there’s risk associated with that but he cannot afford for a single soul to recognise him.

He quickly turns his phone back on and it pings for a solid minute, missed calls, voicemails and messages flying in at an alarming rate. There’s only one he’s waiting for and once the noise stops he fishes through to find it. It’s MJ and she sends, without any supplemental information, an address. He turns the phone back off.

There’s an area map for tourists outside the station and he works it out from there - it’s a 30 minute walk, north west. He starts walking, fast enough to reach his destination but not too fast that anyone will suspect anything untoward. The commercial area thins out to suburbia before thinning out again to tree-lined wide roads, each residence protected by an imposing gate. 

As he walks, the sun is beating down on his back and he can feel himself getting warmer and warmer. The headache he felt coming on the train is now all consuming. He can feel the sweat running through his hair, down his temples, across his top lip. He just keeps his head down, ignoring the fact he knows he’s not doing himself any favours by keeping himself wrapped up like a burrito, because he knows where he needs to be, and he just wants to get there.

Eventually, thank GOD, he sees a house with the same number on the gate as in MJ’s message. It’s across the road and on a corner plot, but before he can breathe a sigh of relief he clocks the security guard in the hut by the gate. Unable to afford to take any chances on being recognised and reported, he goes to the back of the perimeter wall, checks for cameras (just in case) and slowly clambers over. He would have preferred to have jumped but his limbs are feeling heavy, and his headache is preventing him from being able to focus at all.

As he finds solid ground on the other side of the wall, he leans against it, taking a breath. He feels horrifically tired, unsure whether it’s his core temperature or just the overall shock making him feel so shit. He looks across the huge garden space and in the distance, he sees a long conservatory covering most of the back of the house. He walks across the land as fast as his heavy legs will take him and knocks on the window into the dark space within. May comes running in to view. She bursts the double doors open, grabbing him and pulling him into a tight hug. 

“Oh my god Peter you’re alright!!!” May exclaims, crying again.

“I’m so sorry,” is all he can muster, voice quiet and barely registering emotion. He feels as if he’s having an out of body experience. The headache is now an excruciating migraine and he’s starting to feel lightheaded.

Happy comes in having heard the commotion and unwittingly makes his headache worse. “Kid, thank Christ! Are you ok? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No.” He’s not lying, he’s not hurt, just too hot and it’s all just too much.

“Right, well you need to sit down. There’s a lot to go over already.”

He’s feeling terrible, the headache and the heat consuming him. He feels himself being led to a huge breakfast bar in the middle of the kitchen. He feels himself be physically pushed into a seat and a hot drink being thrust into his hands. He should really tell them he’s already too hot. But he doesn’t feel like he could disappoint them any more than he already has and so he drinks anyway, feeling the coffee warm him from the inside out, the sweat dripping down his back. His hands are shaking.

“Where...where are the guys?” He hasn’t taken his sunglasses off yet, a good thing given he doesn’t want them to see his eyes are shut. There’s too much input, his head is hurting too much to allow anything more than the black.

“In the basement, want me to go get them?” Happy says.

Without waiting, Happy dashes off and it’s mere seconds later that he hears the din of several footsteps hammering up the stairs before being practically tackled to the ground by his friends.

“Thank god you’re OK dude,” Ned says, seeing how pale Peter is. “You’re OK, Right?”

He keeps his eyes shut, holding onto the hot mug for some kind of anchor, despite it contributing to his already overheated status, and nods gingerly.

“It’s going to be alright,” MJ says. “We have a plan.”

“How is it ever going to be alright?” He snaps, the sound of his own voice reverberating in his brain. He stands up to face her, apologise, but he feels a wave of dizziness hit him as he does so, and he grips the breakfast bar for support. “Sorry, MJ, I …”

“It’s OK, I get it. But you gotta trust us on this one.”

“He’s ruined me,” he says, still quietly but with more purpose. “I’m...I’m done.”

He feels the emotion rise, the lump grow in his throat, and he can’t hold the tears in any more. 

He feels a hand take his, a delicate thumb rubbing in small circles. “Peter... Peter listen to me. There’s been a lot of stuff going on since it all kicked off. More than you realise. Pepper Potts is sorting out all the legal shit, we’re gathering all the footage from the news channels on the day, and we’ve recorded a testimony in case it’s needed. Your name will be cleared, I promise.

“Your identity, well that’s another matter. Let’s get your innocence proved first and we’ll worry about the rest afterwards.”

“I’m sorry…” he slurs.

“Parker if you say sorry one more time, I swear to God…” she goes to hug him, and when she pulls away from the embrace her expression changes. He can’t work out what has changed but she’s now fuzzy round the edges, black dots are flashing in his eyes. “I’ll be alright” he hears himself say, almost as if it’s someone else. 

She’s talking to him now, but he can’t make out the words. He can feel his sunglasses be pulled from his face, then he feels a wave of cold air on his back as his jumper is pulled up. He feels his arms being manipulated, as though he has no control over his limbs. “I’m alright, just...a minute,” he hears himself again. There’s more sounds he can’t make out and the black dots are still dancing and his hands are tingling. That voice he knows to be his own blurts out “I can’t see..” and then… nothing.


	11. Well...it’s all a bit much, isn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently it’s fanfic day, so it seemed like a good time to post a new chapter - and it’s a long one.
> 
> It’s been a frankly horrible 24 hours as a Spiderman and Tom Holland fan. On that we can all agree. At least here, in our safe place, we can explore our imaginations and write all the “what could’ve beens” we want.
> 
> Looks like we’ll never actually see what happens next after FFH. And that is heartbreaking.

As he slowly passes out before their eyes, Flash and MJ seem to come to the realisation of what was actually happening at the same time.

This wasn’t shock from what had happened with the accusations and identity reveal, this was heat stroke. 

“You stupid idiot Parker!!” MJ shouted, grabbing his hoodie and yanking it off his body. “Someone give me a hand here!”

Flash goes to hold Peter up, noticing for the first time that he’s drenched in sweat and sliding off the seat, while May grabs his hands and pulls the sleeves from him. “Oh Peter…” May says. “He’s so hot. What was he doing wearing this anyway? We have to get him cooled down and fast.”

“We have an indoor pool downstairs,” Flash says. “Will that work?”

The next minutes pass by in a flash. Happy hauls the still unresponsive Peter over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift, and they rush downstairs to the impressive pool, which goes from being a serene place of calm to one of mild panic. 

“Someone get in so they can take him, I can’t just jump in with him on my back,” Happy huffs and, without hesitation, Flash jumps in fully clothed and reaches out to take the teen. Happy lowers Peter down and Flash takes his shoulders and pulls him in, the cool water shocking him back into consciousness. He gasps as the cold liquid envelops him. “W-w-wha-t-t-t…” Is all Peter can muster through the panting.

“Don’t bother talking Parker. Yes it’s cold, but you need it,” Flash says, a little cold himself. By now, Ned and MJ have also jumped in, supporting Flash by grabbing Peter’s flailing limbs and keeping him relatively still, holding them just below the surface to ensure his entire body is submerged. He’s now spread out like a starfish, Flash at his head and shoulders, Ned taking care of the right side and MJ the left. Happy is sitting on one of the loungers with his head in his hands, while May and Betty work on getting as many towels and energy drinks from Flash’s inevitably impressive bar area to give Peter once he’s out. 

“How long in here Mrs Parker?” Ned asks.

“Another ten minutes should do it,” she says, looking over at the scene. “Oh Peter, what were you thinking?”

“H-had t-t-t-o s-s-st-a-ay un-n-n-der-c-c-co-v-ver.”

“Well we know that Parker, why waste your energy saying that?” Flash chides. “I think she’s just frustrated. Don’t go giving her any more grey hairs eh?”

Peter smiles through chattering teeth. 

They get him out and dry him off as fast as they can so he doesn’t go the other way and get too cold, before helping him upstairs to a guest bedroom where May helps him into some dry clothes Flash donates. They force him to lay down on the bed and sleep off the rest of the ordeal, and he doesn’t need much rocking before he’s out like a light.

Several hours later he re-emerges, coming back downstairs to the kitchen area with a bit more colour to his face. All but one of the group are sitting around the breakfast bar, with phones in hand. He guesses they’re reading news articles and social media.

“Hey,” he croaks, socks padding on the parque flooring as he walks toward them. “Could I get a glass of water?” 

Flash is immediately up and gets an iced water from the fridge. 

“Thanks man,” Peter says gratefully, gulping it down in one. 

“How are you feeling sweetie?” May asks, giving him a hug. 

“I’m feeling OK. It’s just...all been a bit much today. I’m sorry for putting you through all that.”

“Just don’t do it again, no matter what the reasons. You’re a clever kid, don’t be an idiot,” she says with warmth and forgiveness. He understands it’s not said with anger and hugs her again. 

“Where’s MJ?” he asks. 

“She went to get some sleep honey, she’s feeling a bit overwhelmed.”

Peter’s shoulders drop at that knowledge and rubs his eyes. “See this is exactly what I feared. If anything happens to you guys, that’s on me. I can’t handle that. You should get away from me, deny you ever knew me.”

“Absolutely not Peter Benjamin Parker,” May says. “None of us are going to be doing that.”

Flash pipes up. “Parker, we ain’t going anywhere. We’ve got your back and we can handle it.”

A phone pings. “It’s Pepper,” Happy says. “Go ahead Flash, post your video.”

“What video?” 

“You’ll see,” Flash says. “Doesn’t do much for reversing the whole identity reveal shit but hey, it’s going to help you. Trust us?”

He can only nod in acceptance.

Flash thrusts a phone under his nose and presses play. He watches the video diary entry Flash had made after London. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. 

“Well, what do you think?”

“This is… wow.” Peter says. “But it implicates you. They’ll come to you and they’ll question you.”

“And? I’d take the stand for you bro. And heck they have police protection for witnesses, don’t they? Or I can just get a private bodyguard. That’d be pretty cool to be honest.”

Before Peter can protest, Flash opens his social media account and posts the video, tagging in various news anchors and outlets with the hashtag #IStandWithSpidey.

Next, Ned gets his phone out. “And we just recorded this!” He presses play.

_Flash: Hey Flashmob how's it hangin? I’m here with my crew, Ned, MJ and Betty and we’re here with a special broadcast._

_So you may have seen my recent video about what happened in London. I meant every word when I recorded it and I stand by what I said. Now, in light of today’s events, I’m saying this to you all now - Spider-Man is innocent._

_These guys here are backing me up on this. Why, you ask? Because they were there with me the whole time. These are my classmates. They helped me get Spider-Man patched up on the train, they stood with me facing death by drone, they know Spider-Man as a person and as a superhero, just like I do. And they know, like I do, that there’s no chance Spider-Man could have done what Beck claims. We were there, we saw what happened._

_You’ve heard my testimony, my story. Now it’s these guys’ turn to share theirs. First up, is the super dope MJ._

_MJ: hey everyone. I’m not going to say much - I’m not the chatting type but it was me who found the projector which basically confirmed the Elementals were fake. I found Spider-Man at the scene and gave it to him. He went to take it to the authorities and try to stop further events. But Beck found out, caught up with him, and pushed him into the path of a train - the same train we were on. Like Flash said, we helped him. He was really badly hurt. It was scary. In London, we almost died. Beck sent a drone to kill us because he knew we’d helped Spider-Man. It had followed us into the place where we were hiding and it was going to kill us. Then it stopped, turned around and left. We found Spider-Man afterwards. He was barely conscious. We later found out it was him who stopped the drones - and you all saw that on the original news footage from eye-witnesses._

_Guys, Spider-Man is a good person, no doubt he’s helped you, or someone you know. Heck he even put his LIFE on the line when the Avengers defeated Thanos at the compound. Y’all owe him so much. I know I do._

_I don’t know what else to say, so here’s Ned._

_Ned: Um, hi. I’ve known Spider-Man a long time. And, on record I’m here to say I knew him before he became Spider-Man as well. Before and after getting his powers, he has always been the best friend I’ve ever had. He and I never really fit in at school and we still don’t. We don’t get invited to parties and no one sits with us at lunch. We spend our free tracks building LEGO and discussing Star Wars. We are there for each other, and today I’m here for him. Seeing him injured after Beck tried to kill him was possibly the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with as his friend. But I also saw his incredible bravery, and spirit, and his goodness. He wasn’t angry about Beck, he just wanted to stop him from hurting anyone else - whether or not it killed him in the process. Spider-Man - and my brother beneath the suit - is selfless, kind, and above all brave. He is not responsible for a mass murder. He is responsible for stopping one. I have to stop now because it makes me so angry that anyone would think he was even capable… Betty, please just ...can you?_

_Hi, I’m Betty, and I too was there to help Spider-Man after he was hit by the train. I too know the man behind the mask, and no I will not speak his name. He is goodness personified. He is bravery - he is a HERO. To have been able to support him in this most dangerous of missions - to bring down a psychopath intent on killing others to give the impression he’s actually a hero - was an honour. I would do it again in a heartbeat. And I, like my friends here, are telling anyone watching now, that we will stand up in a court of law and tell them everything we know and defend Spider-Man to our own dying breaths. We know what we saw and effectively we are willingly putting ourselves in danger by revealing our association to Spider-Man, so we hope all of you watching will know we are telling the absolute truth. Flash?_

_Yo, Flashmob, so you heard it here from all of us, we are all friends of Spider-Man. We were all there to help him find Beck and stop him from killing us and thousands of others. We were all there to see his battered unconscious body at the end of the battle. We were all there as the drones flew away, ending their attack - because Spider-Man had ended it._

_If you are with us, please share this video, please flood your social media with #IStandWithSpidey - let’s show him some love right now, and holy crap does he need it._

He looks up at Ned, tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

“Is it OK? Cause if it’s not we can change it,” Betty says.

“No, no, it’s...it’s amazing. Thank you guys. I don’t really know what to say.”

Flash smiles, remembering what Peter had said to him days earlier.. “Don’t say anything then.”

“We should probably check this with the lawyers first, like the last one,” Happy says. “Can’t be too careful. Send it to me eh, I’ll forward it on.”

“Hold on before we do, I’ll get it on my laptop and change the date and IP address,” Ned says, firing up his computer.

All the while Peter is trying his level best not to cry anymore. He can’t stop the odd tear escaping, falling silently down his cheek and he hopes nobody is noticing. 

“All done,” Ned says, emailing the anonymised video to Happy. “Holy shit Flash, your video is going viral BIG time. You’ve got every news channel asking if they can use it!”

Flash opens his phone “FIVE MILLION VIEWS!!” He shouts. “It’s only been online 15 minutes!”

Peter inhales sharply. “What?”

“Parker, people are supporting you. The hashtag I mentioned is the global top trending topic already. We told you it’ll all be OK.”

Happy’s phone ringing breaks through the noise and he answers. “Hey Pepper...yeah we can post the second video? Great. Yeah Peter’s here...put him on? Sure.”

He hands the phone to Peter and he takes it, shakily. “Hey...Mrs Stark.”

“Peter how are you doing? We’ve all been so worried about you. Morgan sends her love.”

Peter’s heart swells and plummets at the same time. He’d hate for the young sweetheart to think he was a bad person.

“Morgan doesn’t believe anything does she?”

“Of course not! In fact, she’s already tried putting one of Tony’s old suits on to fight ‘the bad fishbowl man’. The boots go up to her butt - I’ll send Happy a picture, it’ll make you smile.”

Peter smiles at the very thought of it. “She’s awesome,” he says.

“Listen, Peter, I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but I promise you it will all be OK. Now I’ve made some arrangements and you’ll all be coming here for a proper debrief and a big dinner and a good hug, OK? I’ve made a call and your transport will be here in ten minutes. Tell the guys to gather whatever it is they want to bring. I’ll see you soon,” she says, hanging up.

“Guys we are going to wherever Pepper is, she wants to talk to us all properly,” Peter says, his voice still almost robotic in its nature, unfeeling. “Make sure you’ve got everything you need or want.” 

There’s not much to gather really, all told. Peter goes to wake MJ up, and almost stops himself from doing so. She’s snoozing on the sofa, wrapped in a sumptuous bath robe, her hair framing her serene face and for a moment, all the problems of the present are gone. It’s just him and her, so peaceful and beautiful. But he knows she has to come with them, and so he has to rouse her. He shakes her gently on her shoulder and she jumps slightly at the contact, only settling when she sees his smile. “Hey,” he says. 

“Hey. How long was I sleeping for?”

“No idea, but I’m afraid we have to go. Pepper wants to see us all.”

“How are you feeling, are you OK now?” she grabs his hand as she sits up. 

“Yeah I’m OK. Feel more normal now. Headache is still lingering but it’ll pass. MJ I’m so sorry. And I’m so scared something is going to happen to you-”

“Don’t be scared Peter. Don’t forget, I have ‘Boh’ in my armoury now,” she winks. “Seriously though, I don’t want you to worry. I am my own person, I can handle myself and I will. You don’t need to be saving me.”

“I know that, wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a small chuckle. “I just...this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.”

“What in life is?”

He smiles, and she pulls him in for a hug. Her hair still smells slightly chlorinated from the pool incident earlier but she’s there, she’s a solid reality and again, for a moment, all is well. 

“Me and MJ need dry clothes,” Ned breaks the moment with a valid concern. “I’ve got nothing on under this robe!”

“Drier will be done in 10 minutes so don’t worry. Transportation will have to wait,” Flash says. “Oh and we’d better all message parents and stuff. Say you’re staying here with me for a movie night or a pool weekend or something.”

Ned, MJ and Betty get their phones out and do as instructed. Peter watches as Flash just scrawls a note on a post-it, “gone for a weekend away”, and sticks it on the fridge door. He is the only one who hears him mutter “not like they’ll notice I’m gone anyway” under his breath as he does so. 

Just as Flash is bringing the basket full of now-dried clothes from the laundry room, a small sparkle of orange light forms near the conservatory, growing in size until it is at least six feet wide. Within the circle, they see a pine forest and a man in a VERY elaborate costume. He walks through, eyes fixed on Peter. “Mr Parker,” he says, serene and authoritative.

“Doc,” was the quiet response. 

“Well, haven’t you gotten yourself into a situation?” He says. Peter isn’t sure if the tone is empathetic or sarcastic.

“Um who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my house?” Flash asks, bristling. The rest of the group are agape. 

“I’m coming to collect you, Eugene,” the man says, with a dollop of extra snark. Flash looks stunned, how does this jerk know his name?

“Doc, he just doesn’t understand who you are or what you do,” Peter says. “Cut him some slack, please.”

The man seems to sense Peter’s exhaustion and distress. “Ok. For you.” He turns to Flash. “My name is Doctor Stephen Strange, and I am, for the want of a better phrase, one of Peter’s colleagues. We were on Titan together, weren’t we? And the...compound.”

“Wait you’re the guy who saw like, 14 million outcomes??” Betty exclaims, recounting the conversation at Peter’s flat.

“Yup…” Strange says, emphasising the p, and with an expression Betty senses as guilt, almost. “Anyway, come with me. Mrs Stark is waiting.”

In the distance, Peter hears the cries of a small girl. “Petey!!! Whereareooooo??”

“Come on guys,” he says, hauling himself off the barstool. “It’s perfectly safe.”

The portal is a new experience for everyone, even Happy, and they wander through with pure disbelief and trepidation. It’s nighttime now and as they walk through all they can see is the silhouette of tall black trees against a star-lit indigo sky. Doctor Strange conjures a brightly-lit staff of sorts to guide the way, and a short walk west takes them to the Lake House. It’s the first time since the funeral that Peter’s been here. His heart aches at the memory, and MJ seems to instinctively know, grabbing his hand and squeezing tight. 

He sees Pepper waiting at the door, but before he has a chance to say hello he’s accosted by the knees. It’s Morgan, and she looks up at him with love and excitement. God, she looks like her dad.

“Hey, little miss,” he says.

“I missed you!!”

“You too kiddo.” She skips on ahead and back into the arms of her mother, who is looking at Peter with a mix of pleasure in seeing him and worry for him. It’s wistful, he thinks. Not quite pitying but almost there.

“Hey kid,” she says, bringing him in for a hug which he doesn’t quite know what to do about since Pepper always kept a little distance when Tony was alive. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you, you don’t deserve it at all. Tony would be blowing a gasket right now.”

He laughs, bittersweet. “Yeah, can you imagine?”

“There’d be press conferences and I’m pretty sure he’d have strung Jameson up by now too.”

“And the rest,” he says, wishing so much that he was here to help make things better. It’s not that he can’t deal with this alone, he’d just rather have Tony there. Tony was always this safety net. He never thought he needed it when he was alive. Now he realises how much he took it for granted.

“Come on in, there’s a lot to talk about,” Pepper says, and they all go inside.


	12. The Lake House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know where I’m going with this... Just feel like I owe it to Peter, to Spidey, to give him the ending he deserves!
> 
> Your comments are always appreciated and thank you so much again for reading!! Xx

It’s a strange feeling, being back at the Lake House. When it was the funeral, it was filled with a stillness Peter couldn’t quite place. Light didn’t fall on anything favourably, every colour was dull, every appliance turned off, smells were muted, time stood still. 

Tonight, there’s a log fire burning and the wooden floors are warm and smell of varnish. There’s something baking in the oven and the space is bathed in soft light. It’s welcoming, it’s homely - and even though there’s a gaping Mr Stark-shaped hole in the middle of it, it’s a lot more bearable than last time. The memory of him is still there though. His Iron Man helmet, which had been placed on the coffee table to play his recorded hologram message, remained in place and he wondered if Pepper played it often. The space where he “sat” is still vacant too. 

And it’s as if people know not to go there when Pepper asks them all to take a seat. Theoretically, there’s still a place for Mr Stark ‘at the table’, and Peter can’t help but look across at the void every couple of seconds, almost seeking the guidance he so desperately wishes he still had. He looks at Pepper intently, and sees she looks the same as always, stoic and graceful, but Morgan’s done some serious growing. She’s got longer hair, and her face has thinned down a bit - she’s transforming from a toddler into a proper girl and it doesn’t go unnoticed that she’s wearing a little bit of nail varnish too. Mr Stark would not be allowing that, Peter thinks, as he watches Morgan mindlessly pick at her nails, slowly chipping the pink glittery paint onto the sofa. She’s tucked into Pepper’s side, a perfect fit against her mother. 

Joining them on the sofa is May, and Happy hooks a leg and perches on the arm of the seat, staying close to his aunt, but still on guard. He’s actually pretty grateful the two of them are together now, given the circumstances, because at least if the worst happens, May will not be alone.

Flash takes the rocking chair in the corner, and Betty, Ned and MJ sit with their backs to the fire on the rug. Ned is staring intently at the Iron Man helmet. Peter can see he’s dying to touch it and nudges him with a gentle nod of ‘no’ before he gets any ideas.

“So, Peter, today has been quite the day, hasn’t it?” says Pepper. “I’m really sorry this has happened to you, and you know we’re doing all we can to make sure your name is cleared. Hopefully these guys have reassured you of that?”

“Yes Pepper, they have,” Peter says.

“And you’re fully recovered from your little overheating episode earlier?”

Peter nods.

“Good, well there’s a huge lasagne cooking in the oven that’ll be done in about half an hour - let’s talk shop until then and after dinner we can act like nothing’s happened. I think we could all use some normal, couldn’t we?”

Pepper reaches over the arm of the couch and opens the draw to the little table beside it. “You’ll be wanting these,” she says, producing the EDITH glasses and handing them to Peter.

“Oh my God how did you get these? I left them at the apartment and I thought the police would come and they would take them and-”

“We all saw the news Peter. Happy and May knew where you had them stored and they called me. I used my...contacts-” she glanced across to Doctor Strange, who merely winked in acknowledgement, “-to get the glasses back before they could be located by any law enforcement. Now, they’re biometrically scanned to you. We’re going to need you to put them on and retrieve the data we need, or hand over control to us so we can do it - that’s entirely up to you.”

“I think it’s probably best we do it - not that I don’t trust anyone else, it’s not like that, it’s just...well I don’t know where Beck’s people are now. And there had to be people. He couldn’t have done this alone, I just know it.”

“You’re right, Peter. Our lawyers have been investigating all day and have linked Beck’s activities to at least three other former SI employees who left us under a cloud. We are in the process of building cases of evidence against them before we put it forward to the authorities. We are not in a position to make arrests ourselves, so what we have to do is convince the FBI that they are the orchestrators of this, not you.”

“Right. And you can do that?”

“We’re optimistic. We’ve dug up quite a lot already. They’ve been working on this project since the week after Tony died. That’s eight months of planning, eight months of evidence we can obtain.”

The conversation was getting heavy, and Flash, Ned, Betty and MJ were watching the exchange like a game of tennis. 

“So what can we do ma’am?” MJ asks, taking Peter’s hand again and squeezing it for reassurance.

“There’s not much more you can do that you’ve not already done, and thank you so very much for your efforts. Your videos are now top trending topics globally, did you know that? We’ve sent them to all the major news channels, too. 

“Now, you’re all going to have to go to your homes after this,” she says, turning to Peter’s friends. “You should expect a knock at the door from the authorities, probably tomorrow, because they’ll want to take statements from you. So, if you’ve told your parents you’re at a sleepover or something, just get home as early as is reasonable. When the FBI do come, don’t resist, just make sure you have a parent or guardian present to go with you, and then you call the number on this card,” she says, handing the cards out as she speaks. “This is my direct line and I will ensure one of our team of lawyers is with you for the entirety to advise and protect you. You must call this number, do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am” they all say in unison. 

“And just tell them everything you know. There’s nothing to hide in this. If they ask anything you’re uncomfortable about, your lawyer will advise you so don’t worry about that. Unfortunately, Peter’s name is out there and unfortunately that’s not something we can reverse. The important thing to know is that whatever you say - with our lawyers on board - there will be no repercussions on you or your families and only benefits for Peter’s case.”

Peter’s head hangs down, the enormity of his identity being revealed weighing heavy on him. “I just wanted to live a normal life,” he says. “It’s never going to be the same, is it?”

“We’ll do our best Peter but no, it’s not,” Pepper says, not sugar-coating it. “When Tony outed himself as Iron Man it had its consequences and he was lucky to be a public figure already when it happened. You don’t have that luxury, but we’ll be here to help manage things for you. First though, we have to get your name cleared. After that, the rest will be a piece of cake, I promise.”

“What about school?” Peter asks. “I can’t fall behind in my studies, I can’t go back, I’ll put my friends in danger, my teachers…” He’s feeling the panic rising and he squeezes MJ’s hand tight as if to call for help. 

She leans in to him. “Just breathe, hear my heartbeat and breathe Pete,” she whispers and he obeys, seeking out the gentle thrum of her heartbeat and soothing himself with its rhythm. He’s so grateful she is as calm as she is, and he realises in that moment that he doesn’t know if he can carry on this journey without her by his side. It’s an intense feeling given the short life of their relationship, but it’s one he cannot fight. As he feels his body calming, and begins to hear Pepper’s words again rather than a fuzzy haze, he strokes her arm in thanks. 

“- and we’ll get the school to send work to you so you can keep up with the studies, don’t worry about that. It’s almost the end of the year anyway so we have the summer break which will hopefully be enough time to resolve all this.”

“Thank you Pepper, I don’t know what would happen if you weren’t able to help,” Peter says. 

“Perhaps I can go in and speak to Principal Morita,” Happy says. “Talk about security plans going forward - not just for Pete but for all of them.”

“It’s a good idea,” Pepper says. “But one we can fix up later on. The big thing we have to do, first and foremost in terms of Peter’s safety, is keep you away from Secretary Ross. It is imperative you are not found by him and taken in by him. We are perfectly fine with the FBI and MI6 investigating because with our evidence and their own work, Beck’s lies will be exposed pretty quickly. Ross thinks he’s above all that.”

“Why?” Peter asks, his voice wavering as he sees Happy reactions to her words. 

“Because he’s got a personal vendetta against the Avengers and will not hesitate to put you in the Raft until he orchestrates an unfair trial and has you found guilty. He almost achieved it after the whole Germany incident, which you were very lucky to avoid. I don’t want that for you, you don’t want that for you.”

“Well he sounds a real treat,” MJ says sarcastically. “So how do we make sure he doesn’t find Peter?”

“Well, that’s where our Doctor friend comes in,” Pepper says, pointing a thumb back at the kitchen where Doctor Strange - Sorcerer Supreme and neurosurgeon - is preparing salad for dinner. “As well as obliterating tomatoes, as he seems to be doing at the moment, he’s very good at making things disappear.”

She smiles. “Now, let’s eat shall we?”


	13. Say goodbye, wave hello

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who has stuck by this and are still reading!! I really appreciate it :)
> 
> If you’ve any suggestions on what we can do going forward then please stick it in the comments - all gratefully received!

The lasagne, salad and garlic bread is delicious and the company is incredible, but despite the desperate desire to have things normal, just for a little while, there’s a great big dagger hanging over the whole affair.

No matter how many times people try to steer the conversation into something trivial, no matter what jokes Ned pulls or what facts on feminism MJ recites, there’s always this prolonged spell of silence after, which is only broken by the clattering of cutlery on plates and awkward coughs. 

There’s no avoiding it. Peter is going away, and for all they know, this might be the last meal they share together for a very long time. It is for that reason that everyone is picking at their food, trying to make the meal last as long as they can possibly manage before the inevitable. May doesn’t help matters, anxiously pawing at her nephew’s arm whenever the emotion gets a little too much - which is often.

Eventually though, the plates are empty. It’s time for Morgan to go to bed, it’s time for Ned and MJ and Betty and Flash to go home, it’s time for Happy to take May back to his place for her safety, and it’s time for Peter to disappear. 

May is fussing, as she always does, and Peter allows it, savours it, because he doesn’t know when she’ll be able to fuss at him again. Flash and Betty give their hugs but step back because they know full well it’s not about them. Ned tries to keep his cool but doesn’t. Happy hugs the kid because he doesn’t have an excuse not to show affection for the boy anymore. They’ve come so far since 2016. 

And then it’s MJ’s turn to say goodbye. He smiles at her and she takes his hand, her sad face warming as she looks into his eyes. “MJ, I am so sorry. I wish I was normal, that this was normal.”

“And what fun would there be if you were, if this were?” she says. “You’ll be back. And I will be right here.”

With that, he leans in and he kisses her, more passionately than he ever has before, in case it’s the last time he’s able to. He’s not sure what the future holds, but he wants to be imprinted in her memory. And he doesn’t really care who knows it.

“People are watching” she says between kisses. 

“I don’t care.”

They hold each other and kiss each other for as long as they can before Doctor Strange produces a leading cough and begins making the portals he needs to send everyone to their rightful places. They know it’s time. 

“I will find a way to contact you,” he says, the emotion rising in his throat. 

“I know. And you had better not keep me hanging too long either.”

“Peter, come on,” Pepper says. Peter steps aside and he watches as everyone goes through the two portals - one to Happy’s apartment and the other back to Flash’s kitchen. And then, the bright sparks are gone, the space outside the Lake House lit only by the moon once again. 

“Are you ready, Peter?” Doctor Strange says. “Where you’re going will be hot, make sure you keep inside during the peak hours and keep hydrated. I think you’re going to like it here though, and they will look after you well.”

A portal opens, and the space inside the bright sparkly orange and white light reveals a futuristic metropolis, with three figures waiting in the morning sunshine. He looks to Strange, then to Pepper and then forward again. “You’ll be in touch with updates, right?” Peter asks. “Of course, and we will visit too, with the Doctor’s assistance,” she says with a smile. “And make sure you get everything off EDITH you can. Our legal team will need it first thing tomorrow.”

“O-okay,” he’s nervous now, but he knows what he needs to do. He steps through, his feet making first contact with Wakanda. The second he looks behind him again, the portal is gone. He is alone, in a foreign land, but at least he is safe.

“Welcome, Mr Parker,” says King T’Challa, as he walks gracefully towards him. “This must be a little bit overwhelming for you. Come, let us have tea.”

The man Peter knows to be the Black Panther puts an arm round him and instantly feels protected. He doesn’t know him well, nor does he ever remember actually speaking to him - all he knows is he took the Gauntlet from him at the Compound - but there’s an aura around him he knows to be strong, protective and above all, good. A woman he doesn’t know is with a girl he does recognise. He saw her on the battlefield; small, slight but absolutely fearless. 

“Peter, this is my mother, Ramonda, and my sister, Shuri. I think you two will get on quite well.” 

“I hear you are a budding scientist,” Shuri says, a smirk on her face.

“Um, you could say that,” Peter’s shoves his hands in his pockets, awkwardly. “Are you?”

“You’ll see,” she answers cryptically before strutting off confidently. “Find me in the lab after your tea…”

Ramonda is next to put an arm round him, and again he feels that warmth and protection. She leads him towards the grand entrance of their palace, if that’s what it’s known as. It looks like a space-age skyscraper, standing taller than the rest in this vast metropolis. He’s hoping he’ll at least get a grand tour if this is to be his new home for a while. 

“It’s spectacular, isn’t it?” Ramonda says, picking up on Peter’s wonder. “A long way from New York though, I should think.”

“Um, yes Your Majesty.” he says, nervous. 

“None of that young man, you’ll call me Ramonda from now on, you’re our guest and we want you to be as happy as you can be. Now, we have some tea inside, and we can talk through some details. I’ve been chatting quite a bit with Mrs Stark today.”

He nods, and follows her into the atrium of the building. It’s a vast and stunning space, with windows floor to ceiling, incredible sculptures and tropical plants and in the centre, a beautiful fountain. Members of the Dora Milaje are dotted around, perhaps for protection Peter thinks, but then again they look far more off-duty than on. 

“This is where all royal members and staff convene. Think of it like the Avengers compound, but without the television,” T’Challa says. It’s like they’re reading his mind. 

He’s guided to a large seating area where an ornate table is set for tea. A servant pours in an elaborate ceremony, and Peter is given the first cup. 

“Oh no, you should have this,” he says, gesturing to give the cup to the King. 

“It’s fine, Peter. As my mother said, you are our guest.”

This is a bit odd, he thinks. Not like a royal family at all. He takes a sip and it’s delicious. Like, the best tea he’s ever drunk. “Thank you,” he says, setting the cup down.

“Such a polite boy,” Ramonda says. “Your parents raised you well.”

“Oh, actually, it’s my Aunt May and my Uncle Ben,” he says, feeling the need to correct. “My parents died when I was little. Um… Uncle Ben died three years ago. He was great...”

He suddenly feels a hand on his own. “That is hard on you. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” she says, a kindness in her smile that’s not pitying in the slightest. He appreciates that.

“And now this drama!” she exclaims, waving her hands in the air. “Child, T’Challa and I are happy to be of service. I know this isn’t home, and we are not your family, but we want you to be safe as much as Pepper does, as much as your friends do.”

Peter smiles, but stiffens when T’Challa’s posture changes.

“Wakanda is the only place Ross cannot access,” he says. “So, until your name is cleared - and it will be cleared - you must stay here. I am afraid I cannot tell you how long this will take. You are not a prisoner here, Peter. But you must understand the risks involved if you decide not to stay, or contact anyone outside Wakanda.”

“So I can’t speak to May, or MJ, or my friends, or Happy?”

“We have been in contact with Pepper via our Kimoyo beads, which I will supply you with. You will have contact with her, and no one else. This will ensure both your safety, and the safety of your friends and family. We can get a portal organised if there’s urgent business, however.”

“Ok. I guess I can relay messages to them through Pepper. Just so they know I’m OK.”

“Very good. I will take you on a tour of Wakanda tomorrow, meet the other tribes. M’Baku will be fascinated by you.”

“M’Bak-who?”

“You’ll see,” T’Challa says, laughing. 

“Are you coming to my lab or not, white boy?” Shuri’s voice echoes into the atrium. “Come on, I want to know what rudimentary compounds you’ve used for that...webbing stuff. And we need to look at those awful glasses...”

“Rudimentary? Ouch,” he retorts. 

“I’ll make a proper judgement once you’ve shown me your workings. Come on!” she chides. 

He’s not sure whether to think she’s the most awesome person in the world, or the most terrifying. Or both. He gets up tentatively from the seat, and doesn’t really know what to do with himself. Does he bow, does he kiss their hands, does he say anything? He can’t just walk away from the KING. 

He opts, in true Peter fashion, to stumble over his words and awkwardly shake their hands in thanks before darting off in the direction of Shuri, who has since long gone. 

“He’s a good boy,” Ramonda says to T’Challa, as they watch him rush off. “How could anyone think he was responsible for killing a fly, let alone another human?”

“It seems to be the culture to blame before proof is found,” T’Challa said. “And yes, he is very good. He showed incredible bravery against Thanos. By taking the gauntlet from me, I do believe he saved my life.”

“He is hurting though,” she says. “In his heart.” 

“Yes. He has sustained many losses in his young life, a lot of trauma.”

“We cannot fix it.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“I am afraid not, mother. But I believe we can provide some respite.”


	14. Paps and protocols

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait in the latest chapter, it needed a bit of a reworking. It’s fairly long, and I just hope you enjoy it :)
> 
> Personally I’m not feeling confident in this, just not sure if it’s got enough drama to it...that it’s a bit sappy and OOC. I want more angst but that’ll have to wait I guess! 
> 
> There could be a small wait for the following chapter too as I definitely need to start again!

ONE WEEK LATER

Ever since he had a concept of what celebrity was, ever since he was old enough to know what being famous actually meant, he wanted a part of it.

The need to be known, to be recognised and revered, only intensified when the first superhero he’d ever seen, Iron Man, came on the scene. And then, as the years went on more and more of these superheroes appeared. They were more than celebrity, akin to royalty. People wanted to be like them, people depended on them, people LOVED them. 

In recent years, the Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man had given Queens one of their own. He had this small-town vibe about him, keeping the community safe and restoring some much-needed pride in the area. 

He now knew that superhero to be his classmate. He knew that superhero to be the kid he bullied for two years straight. He knew that superhero to be Peter Parker.

And now everyone else knew too. 

He had been interrogated by the FBI for a full six hours the day after returning from the lake house - as anticipated - and given the furore over the viral videos, they’d been granted special leave from school for a week. 

You’d think that was enough time for the storm to blow over, wouldn’t you? Certainly that’s what he thought, in this disposable world, where the big news at 9am was forgotten by 1pm. 

So, he believed going back to class at Midtown High on a sunny Monday morning should have provided some respite to the drama going on in the wider world. 

Instead, he found himself fighting to get through the doors as a hoard of paparazzi and breakfast news reporters wanted their piece of the pie. He was thankful it was another sunny day and he wore his sunglasses, as it deflected at least some of the glare of the popping flashbulbs. He muscled his way through the throng and burst through the double doors of the school hall, where Ned, MJ and Betty were waiting for him.

“You ok Flash,” MJ asks, grabbing his arm as he flustered through the doors. “Rough, eh?”

“Yeah no shit!” he says angrily. “Didn’t Happy speak to the school about this?”

“I just called him, he said he spoke to Morita yesterday. Clearly he didn’t take it seriously.”

Flash is furious and there’s no way he’s able to hide it. He starts pacing towards the Principal’s office, the group in hot pursuit. Before they have a chance to stop him, he’s burst through the door to face a startled Morita.

“What kind of school is this that they get a call from Stark’s head of security, about one of its own students being framed as a criminal and his friends needing some protection, and HE IGNORES IT!!!” Flash shouts, not even thinking about the hierarchy here. 

“Mr Thompson I can assure-”

“You assure me of nothing, sir! There’s news reporters and paps outside harassing us and anyone else who comes through those doors. Where’s the security? Where’s the safeguarding? You KNEW this would be happening. You should be ashamed of yourself!” Flash says, turning and leaving the office, not seeing Morita’s shocked and shamed face as he walks away. 

“I’m going home,” he says, throwing his bag back over his shoulder. “It’s not safe here.”

Betty looks at MJ with a worried glance as Flash starts to make his way down the long corridor. “He’s not wrong,” she says. “I don’t feel safe at all. What if they start throwing cameras in our faces in the school yard or through the windows. It’s not fair.”

“You’re right,” MJ agrees. “Ned, text Happy and get him to come pick us up. From the back entrance maybe?”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Ned says. “What with everything with the FBI. Is this ever going to end? I’ve been stressing about what I said to those officers, going over and over it in my head - I swear I told them everything and I still don’t think they believed me.”

“Same. I was so tired by the end. The lawyer was nice though,” Betty said. 

“Yeah, mine was too. Mrs Stark looked after us. I just hope it helps Peter. I’ve not heard anything... I assume he’s OK but…” MJ sighs, and Ned gives her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. 

“He’ll be alright,” Ned says, with a slightly unconvincing tone, MJ thinks. “Anyway we better get Flash to come with us. Flash - FLASH STOP! Come with us, Happy’s gonna come pick us up.”

Flash turns and looks more than disgruntled. They can’t blame him, to be honest they feel the same way. Everyone just handles things differently, they guess. 

By the time he reaches them again his face has softened. “You know, if this is what we’re dealing with as just friends of Spider-Man, can you imagine what it’s going to be like for Parker when he gets back?”

Ned shakes his head and looks to the floor. “Yeah… not good. So long as he’s proven innocent though, that’s the main thing right now eh?”

The group walks towards the catering entrance of the school, and wait just inside for Happy’s arrival. 

As he walks, Flash checks his phone and wishes he hadn’t. “Spider-Man squad return to school!” headlines are left, right and centre on social media, together with pictures of them trying to get in and looking very distressed. 

He locks his phone and pockets it. 

He doesn’t want to be famous anymore.

\-------------

Peter is completely unaware of what’s going on at Midtown High. He’s completely unaware of anything that’s going on to be honest. Contact has been sparse at best, Pepper hasn’t given a thing away in their conversations, and when she does reassure him, he’s not convinced.

Despite the warm welcome of his hosts, it’s been a long week. They wanted to keep him busy, taking him on safaris and town tours and to meet the tribespeople, but all he wanted to do was his part in fixing the mess he’d found himself in.

The only place he’s anywhere near happy is Shuri’s lab. They’ve spent the last five days working on improvements to his suit, including incorporating her energy distribution technology and adding extra protection against bullets and knives - if he was ever to return he knew full well he would be a big target for those people he’d helped put in jail. He was especially proud to prove the Princess wrong on his webbing, although she did manage to work out a formula using the same ingredients but making it last twice as long, which he was glad to accept.

And they have been working on EDITH. 

EDITH was a clever piece of kit, even Shuri admitted, and they quickly had data downloaded. They spent hours reviewing it - logging every command and action Beck took while he had them. There’s so much to analyse and even with their two advanced minds, it’s taking time. Peter almost wishes Ned were here to help, but there’s not a lot he can do about that.

It’s on the seventh night, with eyes tired from looking at screens for hours on end, that they have a breakthrough. 

“Pause it!” he cries and the system automatically stops. 

“What?” Shuri asks.

“Look, look here,” he points at the screen. There’s a sequence of letters, numbers and symbols that are coloured so darkly against the black background and so faint that any normal person would never have seen it. But he can, with his enhanced vision. He can. 

“Mr Stark knew I’d hack this. This is only for me to see. Oh my god,” he says with an excited smile as he starts scribbling down the text only his eyes can see. 

SECTOR SCAN: BABY MONITOR PROTOCOL: ACTIVE

He laughs and Shuri peers over his shoulder. “The Baby Monitor Protocol, huh!” she says.

“The Baby Monitor Protocol was put in my original suit to stop me using all its capabilities until I was fully trained,” he explains. “Mr Stark thought he was funny.”

“I think I would have liked him,” she says. “Don’t suppose you know what that key identifier is? I’m guessing it’ll be something related to you?”

“Maybe my birthday? Try 08102001?”

She punches in the numbers and it doesn’t seem to work. “Any nicknames, things you had in common, other memorable dates? It just has to be to do with you.”

“I dunno, Spiderman, Spiderling, Underoos?”

“Underoos eh? Let’s start there,” she says, typing it in. 

“Baby Monitor Protocol unlocked, processing files…” says the female voice as a flurry of new code appears, flying across the screen at breakneck speed, faster than Shuri can take any of it in. 

“For all that is Holy this is a huge subsystem! Bigger than the original hack.”

“Woah,” Peter says, watching the figures fly past his eyes. 

Finally, there’s a pause. “File download complete. Would you like to access files?”

“Yes, EDITH, please,” says Peter. 

“What files would you like to start with?”

“Uhhh the beginning?”

It’s a huge shock to both of them when a screen appears with recorded footage. 

“Oh my God…” he says.

Video from Peter’s viewpoint, exactly as he remembered it when he first put the glasses on. He’s on the bus, talking to EDITH, looking at everyone’s phone activity, accidentally calling a hit on Brad Davis…

Shuri almost doubles over in laughter, Peter goes beetroot red with embarrassment. “Oh Peter,” she cries. “You idiot!!”

They watch as he disables the drone, flying back into the bus. The screen then goes blank, before restarting again at the bar in Prague he visited with Beck.

Beck is criticising how the glasses look on Peter. Then the view shows Peter, looking confused. “For the next Tony Stark, I choose you,” Peter says, and it’s only then he sees the tiny tell of excitement on Beck’s face that he completely missed the first time around. 

Shuri watches the colour drain from Peter’s face as he’s reminded of the fateful moment when he transfers control to Beck. He knows it’s coming, and he turns his face away from the screen, unable to watch it unfold again. 

Shuri watches for the pair of them, witnesses the moment when Peter walks away from the bar, happy and relaxed, and the full reveal of what was actually there unfurls. And then, Peter’s ears prick as he hears chilling words he’d not heard before. 

“See, that wasn’t so hard!!”

In the minutes that follow, all of Beck’s motives, all of Beck’s plans, all of his accomplices, are revealed. Peter is stunned. To begin with, they can see it all but then as Beck says ‘Take these and get them synced,’ the visual disappears, but the audio remains. 

“What’s happening? Where’s the picture gone? EDITH pause footage!”

Shuri jumps up and begins typing furiously, clicking and checking and double checking before punching the air in delight.

“This...this-” she says, pointing to the screen, “-is about protecting the system in the hands of others. The protocol doesn’t stop EDITH’s capabilities because you authorised the switch. But it does amplify accountability. 

“Clearly, he trusted you with EDITH, because it only records what you do when you’re wearing them. But the minute you handed them over, it’s recorded EVERYTHING. Whether the owner has them on or off. There’s banks of hidden footage Beck would never have known about.” 

Peter sits back and smiles, a lump rising in his throat, and a tear forming in the corner of his eye. All this, the global defence system, the hidden protocols only he could see… all designed to protect him from harm. He shakes his head gently, and rubs his eyes. 

“What’s the matter?”

“Just...I miss him. He, uh, he wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea and he didn’t really show much in the way of emotion but things like this, just shows me how much he cared. And I miss him.”

“This is the natural way of things,” she says. “You must look back and smile on the time you had. He wouldn’t want you to be sad all the time, He is in the afterlife now and he is always going to be there, protecting you. This is proof, no?”

“I guess it is. You heard what EDITH stands for?”

“Even Dead I’m The Hero, wasn’t it?”

“Yup. I guess he is.”

The pair sit for a few minutes in silence, allowing the moment to pass, before a sharp intake of breath from the princess signals that life, and the task in hand, must continue.

“So,” she says, turning back to the computer. “Looks like from the minute you handed them over to Beck, it’s been recording audio 24/7. The moment you put them on again in London, it stopped. Look,” she says, pointing at the screen. 

“So what about the footage he filmed accusing me of the attacks, how did he do that if he didn’t have the glasses? EDITH, play footage under the Baby Monitor Protocol at Tower Bridge please?”

Peter sees the fight through Beck’s eyes but then there’s audio - perhaps he took them off while Peter is fighting the illusion tech, he guesses, when he hears Beck get hit, fall to the ground and then talk to a guy called William to get a drone to film him.

“Why don’t you just kill him with it? End him!” says the other voice on the comms.

“I want to do that MYSELF!” Beck shouts. “J-just, film me OK! While he’s busy then...ugh....get….ugh...get it downloaded. I don’t know...if I’ll make it. If I don’t, I want him ruined. He said...he said he’d be done if people knew who he was.”

He then hears Beck say the fateful words he heard outside Madison Square Garden with MJ, before his own voice cuts back in. “Beck!! Ah!!! You lied to me…”

He watches as he sees Beck come up beside Peter, raise his arm and go to shoot before he sees himself gripping Beck’s wrist, eyes wild and panicked. The screen goes blank and then it comes back but this time from Peter’s viewpoint as he orders the stop on the drone attack, checks Beck’s dead…

“So…” he says, rubbing his eyes. “He filmed his simulation doing the reveal while I was finishing off the other drones, then whoever this William guy is, he took the footage and spliced it together?”

“It would seem so.”

He taps his kimoyo beads and a small holograph of Pepper quickly emerges.

“Peter?”

“Mrs Stark, we found something, it’s really important. Can you come?”

“Of course, let me contact Doctor Strange and we’ll be there as soon as we can. It’s good news, right?’

“Yeah, I think so,” Peter says with a large exhale. The relief is palpable.

“Oh thank God. Want me to bring Aunt May and Happy?”

“Yes… please!” Peter exclaims. It may only have been a week but he’s really missed his Aunt’s presence.

“Right, well let me make some calls. It’s late there but stay up, we’ll be as soon as we can.”

The hologram quickly disappears, and Peter smiles broadly at Shuri, who cannot help but return it. 

“It’s going to be OK, Spider-boy,” she says.


	15. Resurfacing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am super anxious to post this because I'm not sure it's the direction everyone wants this story to take, but I think there's been too much fluff lately.
> 
> Sorry if you don't enjoy it, but hopefully you will! Please comment and let me know what you think, and if you've any thoughts on where the story could go. I have two more chapters already written after this one :)

Five people sitting in a diner booth is always a bit of a squeeze but when one of those five is a 250lb bodyguard, breath is actually hard to come by.

Happy Hogan is perching himself on the very edge of the red leather balconette seat and even by doing that, the rest of the group - MJ, Flash, Ned and Betty - are unable to do much more than claw at their burger and chips like Tyrannosaurus Rex, elbows squished into their ribs. The booth was the last one available in the popular Starlight diner on the edge of Queens and, conveniently, tucked right away at the back where no-one would see. 

Happy knew about this place because it was one of Peter’s favourite places to go with Tony, and Tony liked it not only because of its ability to hide people from watching paparazzi but also because its cheeseburgers were exceedingly decent. 

“I wonder what Pete is up to,” Ned says, mid mouthful. “He’s fine right?”

“Yeah kid he’s fine.”

MJ keeps her head down. She doesn’t like admitting her emotions but she also can’t lie, so silence seems to be the best option. It’d been well over a week since she’d kissed him, embraced him, felt his warmth. It had felt like half of her went with him through that portal, the gaping hole inside her black as night and weighing heavy. Sleep hadn’t been easy to come by either, and she wondered if this was, in fact, what love feels like. She wasn’t sure, at this stage, whether it was worth it.

“You OK MJ?” Flash asks, calm now after the incident at the school. “You’re pretty quiet.”

“Yeah, I just don’t really feel like talking much.”

“I get that. We’re here for you though, I know it must be hard.”

“Hard?” she laughs sarcastically. “Yeah just I have a boyfriend who I watched almost die in front of me and now he’s been snatched away because some maniac from the government wants to throw him in an underwater prison. Not to mention the fact he now has every criminal after him because they know his face. Not to mention the fact, the world seems to think he’s a mass murderer.” 

The tears she’d fought so hard to keep in start to fall. “And I might never see him again.”

Ned, sitting next to her, hooks an arm up and around her, and surprisingly to him, she leans in for the comfort. “Hey, he’s going to be OK, you’ll see. Wherever he is, he’s safe and he’s probably working out how he’s gonna call you.”

Happy doesn’t really know what to do. He knows where Peter is, knows he’s been in sporadic communication with Pepper - and he could tell them because he does trust them. But they’re already not safe, they’re already going through too much for kids their age. The less they know, the better really. 

“He’s OK, MJ, and he will be OK,” is all he can say before rising to go get another round of drinks, hoping they don’t see the look on his face that says he knows more than he’s letting on. 

It’s as he walks away he notices an oddly beautiful crystal-cut mirror come towards him, and a warm glow on his back. 

“What the….!’ he says as he reaches the beautiful panes of glass, and slowly puts his hand through before recoiling in panic.

“You’re in the mirror dimension,” says the Master of the Mystic Arts, a distant echo to his voice even though he’s standing right in front of him. “It’s OK, no one else in this diner can see it, or see us, or what’s happening. Come on, finish up your food, you need to come with me.”

\-----------------------------------------

Since speaking with Pepper, Peter hasn’t been able to sit still. He’s pacing the atrium, and by pacing, he’s covering every inch of the floor, the walls and the ceiling, much to the amusement of the royal family and to the confusion of the Dora Milaje. 

He’s too excited to see them, to show them the evidence he’s found, but then again he’s too anxious that it might all be for nothing, that it wouldn’t be enough. After a good hour of oscillation, he’s stopped by the familiar fizzing sound and orange light of the portal, and through it comes the people he needs most. 

It’s almost as if it’s in slow motion, May and MJ are first through and envelope him in the tightest of hugs, each of his cheeks showered with kisses. Morgan is next, having muscled her way through the melee to get at his knees.

Ned is next, and it’s like the first day back after the Blip all over again. Flash and Betty, Happy and Pepper wait patiently in line, just happy to see the boy again. Strange just closes the portals, and waits behind, hovering like some kind of ghost, detached from everyone and everything.

“Feels like it’s been forever,” Peter says with tear-filled eyes. If he could bottle this moment, he would. 

“Good to see you kid,” Pepper says. “Come on, I’m anxious to see what you’ve found. Let’s see what you got.”

“Right, yeah, sure, OK,” he says as he wipes his eyes with the cuff of his shirt while pulling MJ close to him. “Shuri did you wanna take these guys to the lab? This is your house after all.”

Shuri does the honours and they all make their way to her impressive playroom. Peter, having become highly accustomed to everything, enjoys looking at the faces of everyone else as they see it for the first time. Ned’s face is his favourite. He wishes he had his phone so he could take a picture of it.

“Dude this is SO COOL!!!” is all he keeps saying as his eyes hit something new every few seconds.

“Welcome to my lab. Do not touch anything please,” Shuri says with authority, glaring particularly at Flash. They gather round the computers she and Peter have been glued to for a week. 

They key in the password to unveil the hidden subsystems, EDITH speaking through the computer now and Peter instructs her to start from the bar in Prague. They go through it all, explaining as they go. The group is engrossed, asking question after question about the protocols and the footage and the full scale of Beck’s deception, while the footage and audio continues to play in the background. 

Suddenly, a warm buzzing feeling rises on the back of Peter’s neck and he bristles. The motion doesn’t go unnoticed.

“What’s wrong kid?” Happy asks.

“I don’t know, just...something is off.”

Happy stands up and reaches for his gun. Everyone is on their guard.

Then the source of the buzz is revealed.

“I found it at the scene of the fire monster… what is it Parker.. it’s some kind of projector….Beck’s here...FURY!!” the audio plays out.

Peter turns around and sees the room around him disappear, a drone appear and hit him in the chest, pushing him into the unknown, falling through the fading illusion and down through the floors of the disused building. He knows what’s coming.

“Peter? What is this?” MJ asks.

He can’t answer. He can’t speak. His jaw locks shut, feet nailed to the floor, breathing shallow and rapid. He’s back there. He’s in Berlin.

“Peter?” May asks. “You gotta say something…”

He can only huff in response, the breath just marginally more forced than the rest. The pen he's been holding to settle his anxious nerves disintegrates in his hand. May gets up to comfort him and goes to put a hand on his shoulder, but he violently flinches at the touch.

The group doesn’t know what to do. 

“Mommy whats wrong with Petey? What’s wrong??” Morgan asks as Pepper gets up with her, taking her away from the situation as she starts to cry out for her brother. 

“Stop the video!” MJ says.

Shuri breaks her trance and begins to type furiously. “It’s not letting me. Peter has to stop it; has to command it with his voice.”

“Pete you gotta say it, tell it to stop, please!” MJ says as she continues to watch her boyfriend fixated to the footage on the screen - Spider-Man disorientated, falling from great heights, punching concrete pillars.

But he can’t. He’s there and he can’t and he hears their voices but it’s like he’s locked in the moment, like his brain is forcing him to watch it to prove it wasn’t real.

They watch as he flies around an abandoned building site, fighting nothing, and then he’s scurrying backwards on the floor, terrified of something that’s not there, and then scrambling on piles of rocks, before a fake gunshot rings out and he stops. Beck advances towards him. “Who’d you tell?” 

And it’s Fury’s voice. The looks of shock are intensified as his voice rings out again. “I know you told someone…”

And Spider-Man is flustered, disorientated, confused...feeling guilty. He blurts out his friends names. 

“You...are so gullible,” Fury says. And then the voice changes. “I mean, smart as a whip but, a real..sucker. And now your friends have to die.”

And they watch as he steps backwards, retreating...

“But for what it’s worth Peter, I’m really sorry…”

...and they see where he’s going and he has no clue, and they know it’s coming… 

BANG.

They watch as Peter bears the full brunt of the front of the train. The train they were on. May yelps, covering her face with her hands. 

And then, beside them, Peter collapses.

Morgan screams.


	16. HTTP ERROR 500 (INTERNAL SERVER ERROR)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! 15,000 people have read my story, and 1,000 have left kudos. More than I could ever imagine and I hope I’m not disappointing any of you with this story as it continues.
> 
> I’m a couple of chapters ahead to make sure you’re not those unfortunates who get into a fic only to find it stop for months with no conclusion! 
> 
> Anyway, THANK YOU all!! And I really hope you enjoy the latest instalment (of whump)....

Have you ever tried to bury a memory? Separate one out from all the millions you have and put it in a box never to be felt or discussed again?

It’s not easy. 

He’d tried so hard to forget what happened that morning in Berlin. He thought he’d done it, once, when he had a full night’s sleep in his Wakandan guest room three nights ago. He thought it was finally over, the nightmares. But they came back the following night, him waking in panic, dripping in sweat and having to slap himself round the face four times to check he was real because he had nothing else tangible to test. 

But now he’s standing here, watching this footage, seeing exactly how it played out. No illusions, just the pitiful sight of him being tricked. Tricked and tricked and tricked again with all the cruelty of a cat playing with a dying mouse before inevitable doom. 

And he knows exactly at what point certain things happen. When he’s in the school hall, when MJ is thrown off the top of the Eiffel Tower, when Tony Stark emerges from the grave. Every memory burned into his brain, forever to taunt him.

He can’t move. He’s hypnotised by the footage and he knows he has to stop it but he can’t. He can’t speak, can’t move, can’t do anything except watch. Whatever synapses in his brain that control rationality are making him watch it, no matter how much he doesn’t want to. And for what reason? Except maybe he needs to see it to show none of it was real and then he can move on.

But that means watching all of it for real. That means watching himself reduced to what he’s seeing, this pathetic child with no means of separating reality from Beck’s fantasy. That means recognising just how tricked and betrayed and fooled he was. That means witnessing his own near death.

The sight of it is his only focus but it stings his eyes as the bright lights of the images bore into him, and the sounds around him amplify until they’re just a crashing noise, a noise so loud he can’t separate male from female, because whatever it is, it stabs him and his eardrums feel like they’re going to burst. He feels all the punches and the impacts and the gravel on his hands and it’s like the memories are being tattooed upon him, needles stabbing in from all directions as he remembers, he remembers it all.

And then he sees the train hits him and he feels it as if it were happening in real time all over again. His brain sends signals of pain to every extremity on his right side, he feels the pounding in his head, the sounds ringing in his ear, the burning as the muscles and nerves fire in protest. His senses have gone into total overdrive, more than he’s ever encountered before, and he can’t seem to be able to do anything to stop it. 

It’s too intense and it hurts. But here he stands, fixed to the ground, paralysed by it, unable to free himself from its grip upon his system. He starts to feel lightheaded, a blessed numbness grows in his hands and feet, black spots start clouding his vision, and the cries of people - the cries of a child - he knows start to fade into the distance. He can feel his body shutting down, and as he watches Beck order the diversion of the school trip to London, and the train disappearing down the tunnel, he allows the darkness to come. 

MJ, who is sitting closest to Peter, is first to his side as he falls to the ground. 

“Peter? Peter!” she taps the side of his face, pale and sweating. “He’s not waking up, what’s going on?”

Doctor Strange is there almost instantly, checking his pulse - way too fast - and lifting his eyelids to check his pupils. “Do you have a medical wing, princess?”

“Of course, I’ll have a bed brought instantly,” she says, tapping a rhythm on her Kimoyo beads. 

Strange, kneeling next to Peter on one side, MJ on the other, summons someone to hold his head in place and May leaps in to help. Morgan is practically wrestling her mother to get to him but Ned and Betty are trying to help distract her, all the while watching their friend in concern.

“What are you doing?” Flash says, panicking, as Strange swiftly moves his hands together before a purple light swirls around them, like flickering flames.

“What are you DOING?” Flash shouts again.

“Shut up Thompson he’s trying to help - just wait!” MJ says, fixated on the magic in front of her.

Strange moves the flame up down Peters body, and at times it’s still, and at other times it seems to swirl more as if it’s been caught in the wind. There's exertion in the doctor’s face, sweat forming on his brow. 

As the light fizzles out, he falls back on his rear, panting with exhaustion.

“Sir?” May says. “What’s going on?”

“My magic was trying to find the source of the issue, from what the flames tell me I believe he’s experienced extreme sensory overload. He’s almost...shut down.”

Soon, a floating stretcher arrives with two Wakandan medics and the group carefully lift him upon it. 

“I will run some tests,” Shuri says. “Perhaps all of you can tell me what you can about Peter’s physiology?”

“Let me message Dr Cho back at the tower,” Pepper says as they all follow the table down a long corridor. “She has his full medical file, we can have it here soon.”

\---------------

This can’t be happening. It can’t, she thinks. 

Her nephew - effectively her son - is lying on another hospital bed, in another precarious situation and yet again there’s nothing she can do about it. 

She watches as the Wakandan medics do their thing. As a trained nurse she’s on them like a hawk, but there’s nothing she can really contribute. Things are so different here, even down to the way they administer their drugs - seemingly absorbed through a patch on the skin rather than through a needle - to how they monitor his vitals, which is done via a regular laser scan across his body.

As she looks at Peter, so still and pale, she feels the anxiety bubble up inside her. Memories start to flood back of his childhood, when she would spend endless nights in the ER as he fought off another infection or asthma attack, when he was too ill to even take part in gym class. She remembered then, the helplessness and the fear that one day, one of those things would kill him, leaving her and Ben childless again. 

She remembered when things began to change, when he hit puberty and enjoyed a growth spurt as well as the remarkable disappearance of his dust allergies, and then one day he came back from a field trip in the grip of an awful fever.

When ice packs and cold baths didn’t seem to help, she and Ben rushed him to the hospital where he would end up being in for more than a week. The doctors had no clue what had caused the illness and tested him for every disease under the sun, but still his fever rose, and there were seizures, and intubations and last rites and then, just when they were about to turn off his ventilator and say farewell, he began to cool, the fever broke, the colour in his cheeks returned and he woke up a different boy.

The adjustment was difficult for everyone. He didn’t need glasses anymore but all the lights in their home had to be dimmed, he complained of headaches and earache constantly, claiming things were too loud. He needed new clothes because his existing ones suddenly didn’t fit anymore and all his bedding needed to be changed because they were too “bobbly and rough” and made his skin sore. 

It was as if he’d come out the other side with some level of autistic trait, overly sensitive and often withdrawn. It worried the hell out of her and Ben and all they could do was tend to his needs.

Over time though, there were improvements. He seemed able to manage his sensitive hearing and touch far better as the months passed, and he became more himself again, chatting at a million miles an hour and making them smile daily. 

When Ben died, he took a big step backwards, and his sensitivities came back in full force at random times as well as when his stress levels were high. She grieved, and struggled, but they had each other. She would find him crying in the night, and he would find her. She would try to make Christmas a happy occasion and he would save all his allowance to buy her the best flowers he could find for her birthday. They kept each other going - they depended on one another.

When she found out about Peter’s abilities, her little safe world was rocked. He’d kept a major secret from her, he was putting his life in danger daily, and she was mad with him for doing that. She freaked out - just as he had feared she would - but after a very long chat he helped her see why he’d kept it from her and why he did it. He told her about witnessing Ben’s death - and how guilty he felt that he’d done nothing despite having the power to stop it - and he told her that it motivated him every day to help others. 

She and Ben had raised a complete anomaly. A genius teenager with a kind heart and - ironically for someone with hypersenses - absolutely no sense of self. 

And now she’s standing here, for the first time since finding out about his powers and the things he’d done, looking at him in a hospital bed. She knows he’s frequented them before - most recently in London and before that a couple of times at the Avengers compound getting patched up for God knows what. But thankfully she wasn’t there on those occasions, thankfully by the time she’d raced to see him (or after London when he flew home), he’d miraculously recovered, sparing her from the worry at seeing him in pain.

This time though, this time she had to see him suffer. 

She feels an arm come round her, warm and open and just the right fit for her to tuck in under his armpit and lean into his chest for comfort. 

“He’ll be OK, May. He’s just been through a lot. Maybe it was like, I don’t know, the straw that broke the camel’s back,” he says. 

“I know Happy, it just...I just feel so helpless. He’s sixteen. Sixteen! He shouldn’t be going through all this. Physically, mentally - all of it. It’s too much for him to handle.”

“You know Tony used to have these burnouts. Scared the hell out of me and Pep.”

She looks up at him with his ‘blip beard’, and watches him watch her boy. 

“He’d go in the lab, fixated on something and no matter what we did we couldn’t stop him going on and on and on. What was the record Pep?”

“Um… 85 hours I think was the worst one,” Pepper chimes in. She’s sitting, with the rest of the group, on a bench in the corner of the medical wing. Morgan is blissfully now asleep in her arms. MJ is hovering around Peter’s bed as close as she can go. 

“Yeah so after 85 hours of non stop work and and the tenth consecutive play of his heavy metal playlist we pulled the plug on it and he got so mad. He flew off into this rage, smashed his coffee mug all over the floor, ran his mouth off about how I was going to get fired and promptly passed out. He was out cold for six hours, blood sugars all over the place, heart rate worryingly fast. He had us all on tenterhooks. But he came round, groggy of course.”

May doesn’t really know why Happy is telling her this, as if it’s any comparison, but she lets him continue.

“All I’m saying is, sometimes the body just has to shut down when it’s reached a point of ultimate exhaustion, but it will boot up again, and Peter will be fine. Maybe groggy, but fine.” He rubs her arm and she relishes the contact. She wishes it were Ben, of course, but then again that’s the Parker luck.

She goes back to watching the scene in front of her. Strange and Shuri are jotting down figures and instructing medics and then Shuri detaches one of her kimoyo beads and hovers it over Peter’s head. A hologram of his brain activity appears, the sight so bewildering and awesome it’s like something out of a futuristic sci-fi movie. It grabs the attention of everyone, and they collectively ignore the chagrin of the sorcerer to crowd around it. May takes Peter’s hand and Shuri speaks.

“Patient confidentiality here, I cannot tell you what is going on - but yes this is Peter’s brain, right now,” she says. 

“This is astounding Princess, I would like to speak to you in more depth about this later, please,” Strange says, the neurosurgeon in him still keen to learn. 

“Absolutely. This is conducting a thorough scan, much like one of your MRIs. But better, of course. It’s downloading the data now, and we can analyse this in the other room. You have a history of neurosurgery I understand?”

Strange nods earnestly. 

“When will we know exactly what’s going on?” MJ asks. 

“Soon, I think. When he’ll wake up though, is another matter.”


	17. Open for a surprise...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd drop a fresh chapter for you - obviously this is HORRIBLY inaccurate on the medical side of things but I think we can all agree nothing in this fic has been medically accurate from the start!
> 
> Oh and yeah, stay til the end...

A cup of what looks like coffee is placed in her hands. It smells like coffee too, but it looks like green tea. She studies it carefully, watching the steam rise and the bubbles on the surface swirl in an anti-clockwise circle.

“Are you ok?” asks the voice of the person who gives her the drink. She doesn’t look up but she knows it’s Ned.

“Yeah. I...uh…I dunno. I’m just tired.”

“I feel you. These last few weeks have been tough eh?”

MJ nods and she feels an arm wrap around her, warmth and care attached to it. Thank god for her friends.

“I think I might need to get home soon,” Betty says. “Mom and Dad are probably going to be worried about me.”

Flash nods in agreement but continues to stare into space. “My parents aren’t home still. I can stay. If you want me to?” He says.

“I’m sure Doctor Strange can get you back, Betty. If that’s what you want?” Pepper says. 

“Well it’s not what I want but, you know, so much has happened and I don’t want to worry them any more than I already have.”

“Of course,” says Pepper. “Let’s hope he’s done soon and then we can get you back.”

Doctor Strange has been locked in a lab with Shuri for the best part of an hour now, and the waiting is agony. May has taken up residence next to Peter’s bed, Happy providing emotional support. She isn’t coping well, and MJ - as much as she wants to be near him too - wonders if it’s appropriate to invade his aunt’s space like that.

“You should sit with him, MJ” Ned says, reading her mind. “You know May would be upset if she knew you were holding back. Go on.”

She shrinks in on herself a bit before gingerly getting up and slowly walking over to his bedside. He looks so peaceful, possibly the most still and calm he’s looked in weeks. The colour in his face is still lacking, but still beautiful. She takes his hand, limp in hers, and traces her thumb across it. “Hey Tiger. You waking up soon?”

May looks up at her with a smile and tear-filled eyes. 

“He’ll be ok May.”

“He better. I can’t bear this.”

“I know,” she says quietly.

She pulls up a chair and presses his hand on her face, yearning for the touch of him, willing his fingers to twitch into hers, but there’s nothing. The silence just continues.

A new voice enters the space.

“What happened?” T’Challa says calmly, but with concern. “I’ve just heard from Shuri.”

“They were showing us the findings from EDITH, and then he had some kind of episode while watching some of the footage, and collapsed. He just seems to be sleeping,” Pepper says. 

“Well Shuri is an excellent scientist and you have the Doctor with you. This is a good thing. I don’t want to intrude - but we have food and guest rooms if you need to stay and my mother will be glad to host you. If you need anything, please, just ask.” He nods his head before quietly leaving. 

“Everyone’s so nice here,” Ned says, absent-mindedly.

Suddenly, the door to Shuri’s biolab opens and she and Doctor Strange emerge, paperwork from Dr Cho in their hands.

“He’ll be OK,” says the sorcerer. “ He just needs time. Looking at his brain activity, he did, and we think continuing to suffer an extreme overload, and that combined with the trauma of what he watched, just overwhelmed his body and his mind, that’s what we have to put it down to.”

“His pain receptors are very active right now, so we’ll give him something to help with that,” Shuri adds.

“When he wakes - and judging by his healing factor and metabolism I think that might not be too far away, he’ll likely still be hypersensitive,” Strange concludes.

“What will that mean,” Flash asks. “How long for? Can’t you just wake him up with your magic or something?”

“No, Mr Thompson, I can’t. And even if I could, I wouldn’t, his body clearly needs this. 

“I think May and MJ should stay if they can. The rest of you...I think you should leave.”

They know what Doctor Strange says is the right thing to do, harsh though it is, but they don’t want to go. None of them. 

Pepper, stoic as ever, stands up with Morgan in her arms, and ushers the rest to do the same, summoning Happy. “Come on guys, we’ve got to do what’s best for Peter. Doctor, if you could do the honours? And please keep us posted. Princess, if you could also send that data right away please?” 

“Of course Mrs Stark, I’ll have it to you within the hour.”

“You’ve been amazing and we cannot thank you enough,” she says, taking the girl’s hand and squeezing it tight. “If I can ever return the favour you know where to find me.”

Strange summons a portal and after Happy plants a tender kiss on May’s forehead, they all walk through, their eyes are fixed on the bed and the two women beside it. “See you soon guys,” Ned says with a wave as he disappears. 

Strange comes up beside May. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to let go of Peter’s hand…” he says, shakily gripping her by the wrist and pulling her away, much to her distain. “I fear you might be hurting him, Mrs Parker.”

Tears fill May’s eyes and Strange offers a little comfort with a rub of her arm. “I think you ladies should go and get some rest. The Princess and I have an idea which may aid his recovery a little,” he whispers.

“What’s that?” MJ asks almost silently in response. 

“Even though he’s unconscious he’s still experiencing the overload at this time. Shuri and I agree the best thing to do is to administer strong pain relief and then put him in a light and sound proof room where he cannot be stimulated in any way, even in his current state. There’s not a lot we can do about the sensitivity to touch but we do have some nerve inhibitors we can give him.”

“Like Gabapentin?” May asks, before explaining what they are to a confused MJ. “They sort of block off nerve pain, usually people with amputations take it for phantom limb pain.”

“Yes exactly like that Mrs Parker. Medically, this is the best we can do for him and I believe spiritually this will be beneficial to him. His auras and astral form are in considerable distress as well. But I can’t access his astral form until he’s more settled physically.”

May and MJ are holding hands now, bonded by their love of the boy lying before them. “I hope you’re right,” May says. 

“I’m very rarely wrong,” he says, with a slightly smug smile. 

“I’ve told my mother you will be joining her,” Shuri says. “She’s keen to look after you so I would just go along with it. Come with me, I’ll take you to her.”

The two women reluctantly agree to leave Peter’s side and walk with Shuri back to the main atrium, where Ramonda is waiting with blankets, tea, an array of sweets and pastries and a large hug for each of them. 

“This is too much,” May says. “You’ve done so much for us.”

“Never,” says the King’s mother. “Peter is a very special child, we have grown very fond of him, and you are his family. Now, you must be thirsty and hungry, please sit and enjoy. You know Peter would want you to be here.”

MJ and May look at one another and know she’s right. They take their seats and begin to bond with the older woman.

\------------------

The Lake House is a stark contrast to Wakanda. As they walk through the portal, they all visibly shudder at the temperature drop, and eyes adjust to the darkness. 

She unlocks the door and turns on the lights.

“Mrs Stark, I’m sorry to surprise you like this.”

Everyone jumps in surprise.

“Fury, you have GOT to stop doing that, you scared the life out of us! What are you doing here?”

“Well, I heard what was happening with Parker and… well, I needed to see you about that.”

“Ned...that’s only Nick Fury!!” Flash whispers in Ned’s ear from behind Pepper. 

“I know, he tranq’d me with a dart in Venice,” he responds with a misplaced pride in his voice. 

“No way!” Flash responds, impressed.

The pair look at one another and nod in approval, before saying “cool” at exactly the same time. 

“Can we make this a, um, private conversation?” Fury asks, interrupting their fanboying. 

“If it concerns Peter then no, it cannot,” Pepper says, standing taller somehow as she faces the head of SHIELD.

“Well then,” he says, producing a gun from his pocket. “If that’s how it’s got to be, then you should know that I will shoot any of you who utters any of what’s said in this room.”

“You should be counting your lucky stars my daughter is asleep,” Pepper hisses. “Put that away in my house.”

Happy calmly walks over and takes the gun from Fury, seemingly no longer intimidated by the man.

“So, what is it you’ve come to say,” Pepper resumes the conversation. “We’re all tired and we wish to have a quiet night.”

“Well. When I heard of Parker’s predicament, I was… off world, shall we say. SHIELD business.”

Another voice enters the room. 

“And I was off world for the entirety of Peter’s trip,” says the figure, sounding EXACTLY like Fury, stepping into the light from behind the other man, and catching everyone by ultimate surprise.


	18. Sleeping through the drama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> Has it been almost a week since the last update, I do apologise!
> 
> Trying to keep the pace moving along without it getting boring. I'm not good at describing things so you've just got a lot of chatter again in this chapter. Hope you all enjoy it - I'm currently two chapters ahead in my writing and I reckon we are probably going to have another four or five total after these. We'll see how it goes :) 
> 
> Again, please leave a comment if you enjoyed it, or you have any ideas on what could happen next. As always - I'm open to suggestion, as it was a suggestion which started me off on this journey in the first place!
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you for continuing to read this story - means the world! 
> 
> C x

Another voice enters the room. 

“And I was off world for the entirety of Peter’s trip,” says the figure, sounding EXACTLY like Fury, stepping into the light from behind the other man, and catching everyone by ultimate surprise.

“What the F----!” Flash shouts.

“We had important business to attend to after Beck’s first appearance in Mexico that required me to go to space,” Fury says, deadpan, as if there’s no one else in the room other than him and Pepper. “So, I called in a favour with a friend-” gesturing to the other Fury, “-and he stepped in to be me on Earth.”

There’s a stunned silence in the room, and jaws drop to the floor as the other Fury shapeshifts before their eyes into a green alien.

“This, is Talos,” Fury says. “Talos is from a race of people from another planet called the Skrulls. They can shapeshift into anything they want, with practice. Talos is one of the very best. I had suspicions about the initial attack in Mexico and needed to keep Beck close. So I sent him to be me and maintain the cover.”

“So hold on a second. When you were calling Peter all those times, that was this guy?” Happy says, incredulous.

“Oh no, that was me. And it was me diverting the trip. I was keeping in touch with Talos at all times. Talos was… just a way of keeping Beck sweet. Making him think we were interested in his heroics. Mind you, Talos here was very convinced…” Fury adds with a giant dollop of sarcasm, and Talos shifts on his feet. 

“Well he was a very good actor,” Talos says in his original voice. 

“I have so many questions right now,” Ned blurts. 

“I’m sure you do. I see why Talos tranq’d you now, you’ve not stopped jittering about back there.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Pepper says, angry and bitter. “How dare you put Peter in danger like that? How could you leave him so exposed? And you!” she says pointing at Talos, “Don’t think we didn’t hear from Peter about how absolutely horrid you were to him. We all know Fury’s an arse but you took it to the next level. You’re as guilty as he is. Peter almost DIED. And he’s in some kind of coma right now because of the trauma he suffered on what was supposed to be his VACATION!”

She’s seething with rage.

“Get out. OUT!!!” she shouts, Morgan stirring in her arms. 

“We will, Pepper. But I want you to know I’m here - we’re here - because Talos and I are happy to give witness accounts and testimonies, go on record to state Peter didn’t want to be involved and that we forced him into performing his...duties as a superhero. And we are sorry.”

“And if you know, you want me to shapeshift into Parker or Spider-Man so you can show people he’s not the same person I could maybe do that...I dunno. I guess that’ll be his choice,” Talos says, sheepish.

Pepper just stares the pair of them down. “I’ll think about it,” she utters, pointing at her front door.

The two men walk beside the group, heads bowed, and quietly leave. Fury doesn’t even ask for the gun back from Happy. As the door closes behind them, Pepper leans over to the edge of the sofa and sits down shakily.

“Holy shit... what just happened?” Flash asks. 

“I think you just saw Fury show remorse, and yeah. That was an alien.” Happy said. “I need coffee.”

\------------------

He was shaking. His brain was trying to process what he had just seen but there was no explanation for it. He’d just seen...an alien. An alien that pushed his best friend into something he didn’t want to do, something that almost got him killed.

He held the hot coffee cup in his hands, smelling the aroma of the beans and trying to ground himself somehow with them. Everyone else was just as stunned as him - not only was there the shock for Pepper to find someone in her home like that, but… it was an ALIEN!

“What...what do we do?” he asks.

“Nothing to do Ned,” Happy says. “I think you all know this is something you can never tell anyone though.”

Ned gulps nervously. “Yeah, yeah of course.”

“So we know that EDITH recorded everything proving it was Beck’s plan, and we now know Parker didn’t want anything to do with what happened but was forced to by Fury and his green sidekick. And we know what we saw. Surely all this has to be enough to clear his name? It shouldn’t need to get to court?” Flash asks. “Mrs Stark, I’m worried about Parker in all this. Like, if it goes to court and he has to relive it all, won’t he just pass out like he did today?”

“I’m worried too.” Pepper says. “We have to think of his well-being over and above procedure. I will speak to the lawyers - to be honest I think once they present this evidence to the state prosecutors and the British government along with everything else they already have from you guys, they will surely see he’s not guilty of anything.”

“You’d think,” Betty says. “But what about Ross? Isn’t he going to try to twist it?”

“I don’t think he’ll have the chance to, we may have to get Peter to agree to sign the Accords as part of any negotiations, though. It’ll be OK, I think.”

“He’s a kid though, can’t it wait until he’s 18?” Flash says, before a ping on his phone interrupts his next sentence. Initially, he pulls it out expecting it to be a standard notification but his eyes widen instead as he reads the message. 

“Hey, hey I have something here!” he says excitedly.

“What?”

“It’s a message on my facebook from my channel, from a woman...um, her name is Rachel,” he says frantically reading through the text in front of him. “She says she was there at the bridge, she’s got footage from her...oh she’s got a zoom lens camera, she says she filmed the whole thing, and she’s zoomed right in on the battle on the bridge walk - says she’s deaf and she can lip read and she has footage of him saying “EDITH turn off the drones…” he looks up at Pepper, smiling. “That will go with the footage, that’ll prove our evidence isn’t doctored!”

“Message her back, with my e-mail, get her to send the footage and ask her if she would testify,” Pepper says. “I’ll fly her out right now if I have to.”

Flash starts typing furiously and it’s not long before another ping comes through. “She says he saved her life, she would do anything for him and she’ll have the footage with us - she’s afraid of flying but she will happily do a video link? That’d be ok right?”

“Absolutely!”

For the first time in a long time, everything seems to be coming together for Peter, and Ned can feel just a tiny bit of the anxiety that’s been pent up inside him ever since Berlin start to dwindle.

After Pepper’s put Morgan down to sleep, she calls the team of lawyers she’s had working on the case. She sends over the EDITH footage, she gives them the details for contacting Rachel and, reluctantly, she calls Fury and tells him to meet them as soon as possible, with Talos, to give their statements.

Pepper arranges a meeting must be held between herself, the lawyers, US state prosecutors and UK government officials, and it’s fixed for the following day. She arranges a press conference to be held immediately afterwards, at Stark Tower.

Ned, Betty and Flash insist on staying, just in case they’re needed, and Happy insists on staying for general support. 

“We should update May and MJ,” Flash says. “How do we get in touch?”

Pepper takes the kimoyo beads off her wrist. “Tap this one twice right here - it’s a direct channel. Tell them I’m just arranging the meeting place and time for the meeting - it’s likely to be at the UN headquarters in Manhattan.”

“Sure thing, Mrs Potts,” Ned says, before tapping the beads and looking in wonder at the hologram of Shuri which instantly appeared.

“Hey,” she says. “No change I’m afraid if that’s what you’re wanting to know.”

The trio’s shoulders drop a little at the news. “We kinda guessed as much seeing as you haven’t called us yet,” Ned says. 

“Actually we have some news for you and, um, are May and MJ there?”

“I can get them. They’re the other side of the palace, can I call you back?”

“Sure,” Ned says and the line quickly goes dead.

“Well that was cool,” Flash says. “Why doesn’t everyone have these?”

“I think there’s a lot of things in Wakanda the rest of the world doesn’t have,” Betty says. “Money can’t buy stuff, before you start thinking about it.”

The trio watch the beads on the table like hawks, waiting for something to happen. Just as they’re about to doze off, one of the beads begins to light purple. Ned taps it twice again in the hope it works - and to his relief it does. A bigger hologram appears, with all three women in it. 

“Hey guys,” MJ says. She looks tired, eyes puffy.

“Hey we have some good news for Pete,” Ned says. “Flash had a message from a deaf woman who filmed the bridge battle and can testify to say she lip read that he ordered the drone attack to stop and not start, isn’t that great?!”

“Yeah? That’s awesome,” said the teen on the other side of the line, her tone slightly less enthused as maybe she would be under normal circumstances. 

“Yeah so that backs up what EDITH found, that we haven’t meddled with that data,” Flash said. “Pepper is sorting out a meeting now between the lawyers and the prosecutors. They think he could be cleared really soon!”

MJ smiles, bittersweetly.

“Thank God, that’s wonderful news,” May says, rubbing MJ’s arm and trying to be enthusiastic for the pair of them. “We’ll tell Peter when we can.”

“How is he?” Betty asks.

“Still sleeping,” May says. 

“Yeah Strange put him in this room with no light or sound to try to allow him to rest completely. Says he needs to sort of reboot. So we can’t see him.” MJ gulps down the emotion rising. “I, um… we’ve been drinking tea with the King’s mother. She’s nice.”

“It’s a lot of waiting but we can assure you it is for the best,” Shuri says. “Shall we maybe call again in the morning? What time is the meeting?

“Yeah we’d like that. I think the meeting is at 10am our time, no idea how long it’ll be though,” Ned says before they say their goodbyes. “Just let us know if anything changes OK?”

“Of course, we’re not going to keep you in the dark too,” Shuri says with a smile before signing off.

“So now we wait,” Flash says. “I don’t really need to go home. I know you guys do…”

“I’ll take you all home, bring you back here tomorrow if you want though?” Happy says. “We’ll get the school situation sorted too.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep tonight,” Ned says. “What if it’s not enough?”

“It’s got to be,” Flash says. “It has to.”


	19. ‘Reorienting the spirit, to better heal the body’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry there’s been a gap since the last chapter. I’ll admit time just ran away with me! 
> 
> As it’s now Whumptober I hope this fits in nicely :)

_Please wake up._

_Please wake up._

_Please, Peter, just wake up._

_I’ll do anything, just please, please wake up._

It’s not until a hand rests on her back that she realises she’s rocking in her seat. She’s been praying, pleading, for what seems like hours now, just outside the room they’ve put him in.

“Honey you have to get some rest. He hears you, I know he does, but he’s just not ready yet,” May says, choking back tears. “Don’t go making yourself ill now. You’ve got to be ready, we both do, so when he wakes up, we’re there for him.”

“I just want him back.”

“I know. I do too.”

“It’s funny. I’ve always kept my distance from people because I didn’t want to get hurt. And the one time I let my defences down, it’s with him. And I’m hurting, Mrs Parker. He’s never gonna stop what he does, and it’s never going to hurt any less than it does right now.”

“I know what you mean. The Queen of England said it best. She said ‘grief is the price we pay for love’ and it’s true. When I lost Ben, it hurt so much. So very much and I knew, I knew I would have to be brave for him. And then I found out he puts himself in danger every night and it was like that wound just got ripped right back open. Every time he goes out in that suit, I feel it, the pain of fear that just like Ben he won’t come back. So I do understand. We’ll help each other, OK?”

MJ finds herself reaching round and pulling May in for a hug. It’s not Peter, but it’s the next best thing. “I just wish i could see him. All I can look at is that door,” she says, peering over May’s shoulder. “He’s so close, and yet he’s so far away.”

“I know. Why don’t we go see the Princess and Mr Strange and we can ask them what they’re up to? We’ve not bothered them for a while, have we?” May says, tenderly running her hand across MJ’s hair, pushing a strand away from her tear-stained face. 

She sees the hesitation in her expression.

“Honey he’ll still be here when we get back.”

May gets up first and gently pulls MJ up to join her. She won’t admit it but standing up feels good and reminds her how long she’s been sitting there, fixed in position, pouring her energy into willing Peter into consciousness.

They walk slowly back towards the room where Peter was initially taken, beside which is a small annexe room. May knocks on the door, even though there’s a bright red light above it indicating it’s locked - and for a reason. 

It takes what feels like an age for the door to open, Shuri’s initial exasperation at being disturbed evaporating when she sees the ladies’ faces.

“Have you not been resting?” she asks plainly. “You must rest.”

“We tried, but we couldn’t, and MJ here, she just needs reassurance I think. She’s scared, Princess. As am I.”

“Come in,” she says, opening the door wider to reveal her private laboratory, one which she quickly reveals even her brother has no access to. Just like the rest of her workspace it’s immaculately clean, sleek and professional. Strange is hunched over a desk at the far end. He doesn’t hear them enter.

“He got some books from his home back in New York, something about astral healing,” she says to them both, gesturing for them to take a seat. “He’s looking at ways to settle Peter’s astral form to better heal the body. Or something like that. I’m sure he’ll talk to you about it eventually but he’s not said a word for the last two hours so I wouldn’t go prodding.”

“Right,” May says, looking around nervously. “So what is the latest, can you tell us?”

“Well, I am pleased to say our plan is working well so far. We have our technology in the room which is constantly monitoring him - so he has no disturbances from outside influences - and that data has been improving, albeit very slowly. Just when he seems to be calming, he spikes again. Initially the spikes were happening every few minutes but now they’re maybe five to six times an hour.”

“What about his enhanced healing?” MJ asks.

“Doesn’t really come into play with this one I’m afraid, as there’s no physical injury. I think Strange wants to go in to see him at some point to do another one of his own… special assessments, shall we say. See if it helps.”

Strange hears his name being mentioned, slams the book shut and comes over.

“I can go now I think, I’ve read enough. Princess, could you ensure there’s no light sources from the doorway? I don’t want any light getting in at all if we can help it,” he says, then noticing his audience. “Ladies. Are you OK?”

“Confused and tired and worried - as you’d expect, doctor,” May says. 

“Rest assured he will be OK,” he says. “He’s just in… a bit of a maelstrom at the moment. Shuri and I will put everything together again in good time.

“What’s the latest from Mrs Stark?” he asks.

“We spoke to them this morning about what news they had - I think there’s going to be some kind of meeting tomorrow morning, so our evening time,” May says. “Haven’t heard any updates since then.”

“Hmm. Ok well, I’ll be blunt with you, I don’t think he’ll be awake to hear of any outcomes, there’s too much work to be done still,” he says. “But there’s a small part of me which is rather glad he’s going to be unaware of everything going on. Let’s be thankful for small mercies.” 

\---------------------------------

He doesn’t know what’s going on but he doesn’t like it. He’s trapped. 

Colours warp around him, there’s a buzzing feeling crashing across him like waves, tingling in places unknown, needles of pain piercing his every fibre, a high pitched ring growing and growing and growing and growing and then - 

Nothing.

Blissful release as there’s black and he’s floating and its still and it’s oh so silent…….and then he’s spinning and then he’s falling and then - 

Colours warp around him, the buzzing comes in pulses constricting his heart and he’s thrashing around inside and he’s trying to hide from it and it’s all too much and then -

Calm. 

Darkness. No concept of time or space, like a dream where a lifetime of events happen in seconds and then a train hits him and then -

Colours warp around him. He’s trapped in this cycle of chaos and he can’t fight it, it’s just happening and he doesn’t have a second to think and the panic rises before- 

Sleep. 

Is this sleep? He’s not sure but it’s nice because he’s so tired and if he can just get some rest he’ll be-

Oh shit, here we go again.

\---------------------

Strange is shrouded in darkness, his path down the long corridor lit only by the unlocked time stone hanging around his neck. 

He sees the tiny red light above the door he needs to reach and, using his cloak, levitates the final stages, ridding the space of any sound of approaching footsteps. One movement of his hand firstly closes the Eye of Agamotto, then slides the door across in total silence. He levitates into the space, proceeding with care as his eyes adjust to the pitch black, careful not to collide with Peter’s bed. He follows the sound of irregular breathing - one moment hitched and panicked, the next, becalmed. He recognises this is as a spike.

He stands over the boy, softly descending to the floor, the gentle taps of his feet hitting the linoleum and sounding abnormally loud against the silence of the space. He moves his hands in rhythms he’s just learned from the astral healing book. He’s not performed this particular spell before, thankfully he’s never needed to use it, but his hands move anyway and the magic appears, like cigarette smoke - milky and ribbon-like in nature. The smoke moves like poison ivy, wrapping itself like tendrils around Peter’s form before going into his nostrils, as if he was inhaling it. 

The boy doesn’t move for the entire time before suddenly, he gives out a single shudder, and from him appears his astral form - but it’s not how Strange recognises it. Not one bit. 

Normally an astral form will exactly resemble the person, only see through and tinted in golden light, lucid and awake. Instead, Peter’s astral form is also sleeping, but very fitfully, and he’s bathed in dark red light and it’s jerking around like… it’s buffering, pixelating. Not entirely there. 

It’s not easy to watch, since he knows how calming being on the astral plane should be. Silently, he conjures two bands around his wrists, and begins to swirl his right hand above the form. He uses this spell to control moving objects - in fact the last time he did it was to prevent the compound being flooded during that fateful battle. Harnessing the space, maintaining the control and keeping the order of things seemed to work that day. If he could just control the perimeter of Peter’s form, bring some stability to it, he thinks….

He spins the form in front of him, slowly, sculpting the astral form with his free hand as he goes, holding firm where there’s larger glitches - particularly around his heart and head - and he struggles to hold the energy in place. It’s exhausting him, and he knows he’s not going to get the job done in one sitting. As he begins to feel his legs crumble beneath him, the weight of controlling, shaping and healing the form in front of him, he has no choice but to release the partially-fixed astral Peter back into his bodily form, with a slump. 

The cloak holds him up, then lifts him up. It knows he won’t want to leave until he is fully satisfied there’s been some progress, and so waits for him to perform one last assessment. He pulls out the purple flame that he used when Peter first passed out, and is relieved to see the severity of the flicker has diminished somewhat. Just like before, the flames transmit Peter’s feelings deep into his own soul. They feel slightly more settled. 

Satisfied, the cloak takes him from the room, the door slides shut behind him, he drops to the floor, and promptly vomits.

They can hear him at the very end of the corridor. “Lights to 10%” Shuri commands and the dim light reveals the doctor on his hands and knees, shaking from exertion. They rush towards him.

“It’s OK, it’s OK,” he whispers in protest, wiping his mouth with his hand. “Just… a side effect. Cup of coffee and I’ll be fine.”

“We’ll see about that,” Shuri says, lifting Strange to his feet, with the aid of the cloak. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

The trio (and cloak) help Strange back to the lab where they lay him down on an examining table and give him some water.

“Sir, what happened,” May asks. “Are you OK? And is he OK?”

“I’ll be fine, and he is… well he’s a bit better. Not as better as I would like but I used up all my energy. Magic has a price, I’m afraid,” he says, wiping sweat from his brow. He’s pale, grey in pallor.

“If you mind me asking, what did you do?” MJ asks.

“I performed a spell I’ve not done before, hence my reading the book. I wanted to extract Peter’s astral form without disturbing him. It’s not easy when a spirit is in distress, you need to coax it out - normally a sharp fist to the chest will do it but I obviously couldn’t do that without hurting him. So yes the spell brought it out using a different method. 

“His astral form is distrurbed, to say the least. Imagine if you will, a malfunctioning television screen, the figures dissipate, they’re jerky in nature, pixelated.” The three women nod. “Well that’s what his astral form is like, incomplete and in need of recalibration.”

“You can do that?”

“I was attempting to do so, yes. I would say I probably improved his form by 60 per cent but there’s still a ways to go. I won’t be able to go back in and complete the work until tomorrow now. But judging by his breathing patterns as I left, he’s spiritually more comfortable now.”

“That’s wonderful Dr Strange, however can we thank you?” May says. 

“You don’t have to. I understand more than most what Peter has gone through, to be at one with loss and pain like he is. He is young, and I am happy to ease that pain for him so long as he continues to be the good and pure selfless young man he is. He’s the best of us, Mrs Parker. You should be proud.”

Tears fill her eyes and she takes one of his trembling hands. “I am, sir. I am.”

\------------

He’s unsure what’s going on but he feels uneasy. Like he’s going round in circles. 

Colours are soft around him, there’s a buzzing feeling in his tummy, a dull ache in his head, jangling sounds like a windchime ringing in his ears and then - 

Nothing.

Blissful release as there’s black and he’s floating and its still and it’s oh so silent. If he didn’t know any better, he is in a deep sleep and he feels the darkness wash over him, envelope him, and he’s calm and it’s nice…

Pastel shades wrap around him, bright and intrusive, like seeing sunlight for the first time in days. There’s buzzing and needles in his side this time and it hurts but he can’t move and he’s spinning and falling and then- 

Calm. 

Darkness and he has time to breathe, time to formulate words in his brain - names. May, MJ, Ned, Happy, Morgan, Flash, Betty… tea, pizza… Queens and maybe even Kings. The letters swirl around like he does in the darkness as he waits for the colours and the noise and the pain to come. 

He’s so tired...

Colours zap like lightning in front of him, around him, through him, the buzzing is in a rhythm now and it’s hurting him, like a taser, and he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe he can’t -

He continues to fall.


	20. The waiting game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter for your reading pleasure this weekend. Hope you like :) 
> 
> It’s funny, every time I post a chapter I get properly nervous. It’s not easy for me to put stuff out there - whether it’s fic, or art. Darned lack of confidence...

“Hey Happy how are you today?” Flash says as he slides onto the back seat and closes the door quietly.

“As you’d expect. Did you sleep well?”

“Not at all. You?”

“Barely. We’ll go get Ned and Betty and then get some coffee.”

“Sure thing. Hey Happy, when do you think there’ll be news?”

“Not sure kid. It’ll take how long it’ll take I guess.”

The drive to Ned’s is quiet. Betty is meeting them there as they’re only a few blocks apart and they know full well how much Happy hates Queens’ traffic at 8.30am. Happy puts some music on quietly to fill the space, but Flash is busy just scrolling through his phone.

“Jeez the news channels are all over it,” he says, absentmindedly. “Feel like I should do some kind of video, you know, keep the fans happy.”

Happy looks over his shoulder. “I’d probably not. Maybe wait and see what happens first.”

“Did you see though, crime has already risen 30% since this all kicked off! Can’t people see how much good Parker does around here?”

He doesn’t get an answer to that. 

It’s not long before a bleary-eyed Ned and Betty join Flash in the back of the sedan, and it’s not long before Ned has fallen asleep on Betty’s shoulder.

“You OK back there?” Happy says, hearing a snore.

“Yeah we’re fine, just tired. Didn’t sleep all that well, you know…” Betty says.

“Well I said to Flash we’ll go to the drive-thru, get some coffee and then head over. We got you clearance for the residential floors so we can wait there for news. There’s a TV and food and bedrooms and stuff.”

“Any Avengers?” Flash pipes up.

“I don’t know, maybe. I mean, they all know it’s happening today. They all admire the kid.”

Flash can’t help but nudge Ned awake. “Leeds - there might be Avengers at the Tower.”

“No way!!” he responds, instantly alert. “Oh damn I shoulda worn a better shirt,” looking down at the old tee he’s sporting that’s clearly just been picked up from the bedroom floor.

Before they know it, they’re pulling into the concourse at the base of the iconic building. New York was a place they took for granted, a view they saw every day from their side of the East River. Iconic buildings like the Chrysler and the Empire State were touchable but Avengers Tower...that was different. That was one was always shrouded in a magic they couldn’t explain. 

Now, they were about to be some of the few people lucky enough to step through the doors. 

“Come on, looking at it all day is pretty pointless when you can go inside,” Happy says. “Come with me.”

With eyes darting around trying to take in every inch of their surroundings, they followed the man through the gargantuan lobby, through security and straight into an elevator. It’s not long before there’s a ding and the doors open to reveal a beautiful open plan living space, with a full bar on the right side, black granite tiling throughout and the most stunning view of the city they’d ever seen.

“Holy shit,” Flash says. 

“I...I got nothing,” Ned adds.

“You guys go sit down, I’ll get you a drink. There’s soda, fruit juice, tea, coffee, water… can probably get some milkshakes ordered in?” Happy calls from behind the bar as they tentatively perch themselves on the large curved seat. 

“Mine’s a smoothie,” shouts a voice from behind them.

“You know I don’t make those Sam, me and blenders are not compatible.”

The man laughs, before greeting Happy with a handshake. “You here for the meeting?” he asks. 

“Yeah and babysitting this lot,” he says, gesturing across. Sam looks at them, a glint in his eye. “You short-stop’s friends eh? Understand you helped the kid out in Europe a couple weeks back, nice job.”

To say the trio facing him are dumbfounded is an understatement. Ned gets up, quickly followed by Flash and Betty. Ned and Flash shake his hand, and Betty surprises herself by curtseying.

“No need for that,” he says, chuckling. 

“But..but you’re the new Captain America!” Ned says, “Sir!”

“Not at all,” he says with his trademark smile. “I just have the shield, Cap gave it to me to look after. I’m just...let’s just say I’m the guardian. But Falcon, yeah I’m that.”

Happy comes over with a tray of drinks. “I just brought some OJ over seeing as you’re too busy fanboying over this one to decide what you want,” he says. 

“So, Mr Falcon, sir, do you live here or are you here for Peter,” Ned says.

“I do live here. But I am also here for Peter. Bucky is around too, and Clint.” He puts a hand on Ned’s shoulder and the boy swears he’s one second away from fainting. “You can have a tour later if you want? I know you guys are probably nervous - best to keep busy eh?”

They nod in earnest. 

“So where’s the girl, the one Pete always talks about?”

“MJ? Oh she’s with Peter back in Wakanda.”

“Ah right. How’s he doin’?”

“We aren’t sure really. Last we heard he was still sleeping, if that’s what it is.” Flash says.

Sam’s face screws up in concern, arms crossed. “Kid’s too good to be going through shit like this. He’ll be OK though. He’s got you guys, he’s got us. It’s gonna be fine.”

“Thank you sir, we think so too,” Betty says, taking a sip of orange juice. 

“Happy you done that smoothie yet??”

The distinctive jjjjusshh sound of a blender rings out, together with the frantic swearing of a man who once again forgot to put the lid on.

\--------------------------------------

It’s already late afternoon in Wakanda, not that MJ or May know what time it is, given the only view they have from Shuri’s quarters is the vast vibranium mines deep within the Earth’s core. The harsh blue lighting is starting to give May a headache. They’ve kept themselves as busy as they can, reading books, playing cards and talking with Ramonda and T’Challa, who have also joined them for most of the day, only leaving when they had a congress to chair. The conversation is easy, and both T’Challa and Ramonda are sensitive and understanding to their guests’ distress. 

They’re all waiting for Doctor Strange to reappear again, having regained enough of his own strength to go back into Peter’s room and resume the astral recalibration. He’s been in there for ages, it feels like, and they aren’t sure whether that’s a good thing or not. 

Shuri joins them, bringing more coffee to their small gathering place. Her lab had never been a waiting room and isn’t well equipped, but together they’ve made it work. 

“He’s been in there twice as long as he was there last night,” Shuri says, checking her watch. “I may have to go check on them.”

“I think so. We saw how sick Mr Strange was when he came out the room last night,” May says. 

“I will go,” T’Challa says, activating his suit as he stands. “Your soundproof soles, remember sister? I have night vision on the mask so you can dim the corridor lights to zero too.”

“You cannot make a sound though, just pull Strange out if he’s collapsed ok?” she advises.

They watch as he silently paces down the corridor, reaching the red light where he knew the man and the teen were. As the door slides open, he sees Strange working on what is to him, the ghost of Peter. 

Neither Strange, or the ghost appear to know he’s there. 

The hovering Peter is dressed in beige chinos and a checked shirt, and beat up Nike trainers - not in the red and blue suit he recognised and is for the most part, still. But to T’Challa’s concern he watches as it suddenly becomes jerky, as if in some kind of seizure, with the outline spiking and waving like the lines on a heart rate monitor. 

Through his night vision he sees the sweat pouring down Strange’s temples, hands shaking with exertion as he attempts to calm the hovering form, and mould it back into a regular shape, pushing the spikes and waves back as they happen, and holding them there until they’re settled. It’s like he’s massaging the knots out of a badly crooked spine. He can see it’s taxing work, and it’s fascinating.

He knows he cannot say anything, and he knows he cannot approach Strange, as he understands it will startle the sorcerer and potentially undo his good work, not to mention break the absolute silence in the room and cause harm to the boy. Instead, he waits, knowing eventually he’ll run out of energy and conclude the session. 

Time seems to stop, as he watches the scene unfold. He notices Strange’s arms begin to shake more, his body swaying from side to side. And then he sees the sentient cloak appear from the far left corner to scoop the man up. He watches as Strange resists, waving his hands about and pushing the form back into Peter’s prone body, which shudders slightly at the action, before he himself slips into unconsciousness. 

The cloak seems to see T’Challa and gestures towards the door with a spare flap of fabric as if to signal for him to open it. The King complies, and they silently depart, T’Challa taking one last look back at the still boy before sliding the door shut behind him.

And now Shuri has not one, but two out for the count superheroes on her hands.


	21. In defence of Peter Parker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this isn't losing any momentum with you guys, and I hope the story is going in the direction you wanted it to. I'm still enjoying writing it, for all its unrealistic qualities! 
> 
> When I started writing this I didn't think I'd end up writing 150 pages of copy. This is by far the longest story I've ever written, and the one that means so much to me because it's gotten me through the whole emotional turmoil of the Sony/MCU trial separation. 
> 
> Anyway, here's Pepper being a badass...

Her heart is pounding and she rubs her hands together, feeling the sweat on her palms. She’s never been more sure of something and yet so nervous at the same time and as she enters the huge meeting room at the UN headquarters in Manhattan, she takes a deep breath as she’s faced with a wall of men in business suits and military uniforms, pre-judging and expectant.

It’s like looking at a modern version of Da Vinci’s Last Supper, the group of men facing her as they sit along a long table. Behind her with briefcases in hand, are the lawyers she’s been working with for the past few days. It’s to her relief that at least three of the team are women so at least she isn’t completely outnumbered.

God, if only Tony was beside her right now.

_It’s always been you_ , she hears in a distant corner of her mind, reminding her that he is there in spirit. She straightens her shoulders, takes a deep breath, and remembers how much trust he placed in her, especially in times of crisis - just like moments like these.

“Good morning gentlemen,” she says, painting on a smile which belies the disdain she feels for them for framing Peter, framing the kid Tony travelled through time for, framing the nearest thing to a son she’ll ever have.

She takes a seat, places her handbag beside her and reaches down into it, producing EDITH, a pad and pen, and the Kimoyo beads she’s kept since T’Challa gave them to her after Tony’s funeral, in case she ever needed Wakandan assistance.

“I am going to allow my lawyers to present to you the case in favour of Mr Parker,” she says, calmly. “However before you begin your legal deliberations I would like to bring something to your attention, which I think you should consider when making your judgement. And I will not be interrupted.”

She sits straight, leans in on the men - notes Ross at the far end, keeping his distance but clearly waiting to pounce.

“Peter Parker is an exceptional young man. He is not a murderer, nor will he ever be. He is a 16 year old orphan, his parents died as a young child and he was taken in by his aunt and uncle. At the age of 14, shortly after acquiring his enhancements, he witnessed the murder of his uncle outside a grocery store close to his home. He didn’t know what to do with his powers at that time, and did not stop the attacker. He has carried the guilt, the weight of that inaction, ever since. Peter became Spiderman on that day. He became who he was because he couldn’t think of any other way to make good on what he sees as his mistake. 

“On a daily basis, he stops muggings, helps old ladies cross the street, rescues cats from trees, prevents major car accidents with his bare hands. He did not want to be an Avenger. He wanted to - and I quote - look out for the little guy. It was only Thanos’ arrival and the threat to our existence, which prompted him to join the team - very much to the frustration and constant regret of my husband. 

“Tony Stark revered Peter. He loved him like a son. He built suits to protect him from harm, trained him in case he was ever victim to an attack, and I know for a fact that after the Snap, he felt guilt every day for the fact he went to Titan alongside him. I know that because I would hear him cry himself to sleep most nights, and be there when he would wake from terrible nightmares about how the boy crumbled into ash in his arms.

“What happened in Europe - and specifically in London - was nothing to do with Peter. He didn’t want to work with Fury, he just wanted a vacation. After everything he has been through in his young life, losing his parents, losing his uncle - losing Tony - he deserved that. But he was forced by SHIELD to work alongside Beck, which you will hear about shortly. And when he realised the depth of Beck’s deception, Peter tried to stop him. To save the lives of hundreds of innocents, including his own classmates. 

“In order to save those lives, he almost lost his own. The injuries he sustained at the hands of Beck - as you are about to see from the evidence we have prepared - would have killed a regular human. Only his powers kept him alive. 

“However, those powers also have a price. Since attaining them he has suffered regular episodes of sensory overload, which we have until this point been able to help him manage. But I regret to inform you that Peter is currently in what we understand to be a type of coma, caused through a catastrophic sensory overload triggered by an extreme PTSD episode. All of this is the consequence of what has happened to him over the last few weeks. He is not awake, non-responsive and in extreme pain according to scans. And we have no idea when he will wake up.”

The cold, hard, faces of the men facing her have been steadily softening as she’s been speaking but the last sentence has them aghast. She feels herself fighting back tears.

“He’s currently being cared for at a facility in a secure location, where his safety is protected and where their technology and the assistance of specialist medics can hopefully help him.

“I need your assurances that you will consider what I’ve said as you are presented with the evidence we have compiled in his defence. The evidence we have is both visual - from the EDITH glasses Peter was bequeathed by Tony and which Beck used to create the London attack - and from witnesses, both civilian, superhero and from SHIELD itself. 

“I now hand over to my legal team, Mr Preston, would you like to proceed?”

She sits back, grabbing a glass of water and taking a gulp, hoping no one notices how much her hand is shaking. She hopes what she’s said is enough to help the case. She wonders if Tony would have been proud.

The case for the defence begins.

\---------------------------------

The sun is setting on Manhattan. He’s standing by the window, clutching a can of Dr. Pepper, watching the sky go from blue, to orange, to purple. The lights are on in every building, the iconic landmarks lit up to single them out as special. Tonight, he notices, the Empire State Building is lit in red and blue, a nod to his friend, he guesses. He smiles.

“What’s up Neddingtons,” Flash asks, suddenly from his left. 

“Neddingtons?"

“Yeah why not? I think we’re done with insults but you know I don’t call anyone by their actual first names, so....”

“Hmm, guess so.”

There's a long pause between the two before Ned breaks it. “It’s been ages, hasn’t it?”

“Yup. Surely it’s going to be done soon?”

“You’d think. Maybe they’ll need another day.”

The pair sigh. They really don’t want that to happen. They stand there for a while, watching New York’s nocturnal life take over from the daytime rat race. It’s been a frustrating day, with nothing from either Pepper’s team or from Wakanda. The waiting is agony.

That being said, there’s been some plus points. They were formally introduced to both Clint and Bucky, the latter of which couldn’t help but laugh when Ned greeted him in exactly the same way Peter had done in Berlin: _“Dude you have a metal arm?!”_

They’d actually spent quite a lot of time in the common area with the trio, talking to them about school, about the Europe trip, how they knew Peter. What was clear was the universal love and respect they all had for the kid. The compound battle bonded him forever to the Avengers, while Europe forever bonded him to his classmates. Similar, but the same.

For the last couple of hours they’d been left alone, told not to leave the common area without asking Happy for an escort. A tour of the Tower might have been nice but it was too late now to ask. So here they now are, standing and waiting. 

Loud footsteps interrupt the silence.

“Got someone else for you to meet,” Happy says, walking in with the pizza they’d ordered not too long ago. 

“Hey kids,” the voice says, softly and cheerfully.

“Dr Banner!” Ned exclaims as he turns around and sees the large green man enter. He knew he was big, but he cannot believe how huge he is, or how badly damaged his right arm is. It staggers him to think about how much snapping everyone back must have hurt him. 

With Betty still asleep on the couch and blissfully unaware, the two boys go over to shake his MASSIVE hand.

“Absolute honour to meet you sir,” Flash says. “We’ve learned so much of your work at school. This is awesome.”

“Well I’m impressed you guys have been reading my papers,” he says. “Shall we sit down?”

They gather on the sofa and enjoy interesting conversation about science, about Peter. 

“Are you here for Peter as well?” Ned asks. 

“Yes I am. He’s worth coming out of retirement for. Whatever happens, we want to be here when Pepper holds her press conference, show our solidarity with him. And if needed I thought I could provide some information from when he was injured in London.”

“Thank you, sir,” Flash says. 

“I heard you got hurt as well in London, Flash,” Bruce says. “Are you OK now?”

“Oh yeah, it was nothing really, just a few stitches - they came out a week or so ago. Thanks for asking though!” Flash can't help but feel a swell of pride in that moment, that THE Dr Banner remembered his name and cared enough to ask. His parents never even knew.

“Right then everyone, grub is up!” Happy says from his now permanent position behind the bar. He’s laid out the pizza together with a bunch of condiments and snacks - it’s an impressive buffet. 

It’s just as he’s tucking into his first slice that Happy feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He doesn’t even look at the screen before he answers.

_“They’re deliberating. You might want to put the news on.”_


	22. Breaking news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't leave you on a cliffhanger for too long.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy the latest instalment :)

_Breaking news to bring you here at CNN. We are getting word that the Queens’ based Avenger Spider-Man has been cleared of all wrongdoing in relation to the London attacks two weeks ago._

_Let’s cross to Anderson Cooper, who has been waiting outside the UN Headquarters to await news, Anderson?_

_Hi Wolf, yes we are getting word, although no official statement has been released yet, that there is not enough evidence to prosecute the superhero, who was outed as 16-year-old Peter Parker by controversial news site, TheDailyBugle.net, last week._

_Obviously, this has been massive news not just here, but globally given the nature of the charges against Spider-Man, so we’ll be discussing this through the night as we get more information. But to reiterate, for any viewers just joining us, we are hearing from sources inside UN HQ that Spider-Man has been cleared of murdering Quentin Beck and of terrorist acts in London. We’ll be back, after this short break.”_

“YES! YES! YES!” Ned shouts, fist bumping and jumping around the common area without a care in the world. There’s hugs all round, smiles and cheering as everyone who had gathered in the Tower watched the news unfold on the TV.

They couldn’t keep their eyes off it, somehow scared it might change and it’s all another trick by Beck. But there it is, over and over on the breaking news ticker at the bottom of the screen. He’s been proven innocent. He is free. 

Ned gets his phone out and dials MJ, not sure if the call will get through but ecstatic he didn’t have to use secure methods of communication any more. Peter was free, they were all free.

“Hey Ned!” she says, the joy evident in her tone.

“MJ you heard?! Isn’t this the best day??”

“Pepper called us about ten minutes ago, May’s just crying a lot. Jesus Ned I just can’t believe it’s finally over!”

“Wish I could hug you dude.”

“Soon, we’ll be back soon.”

“How’s Peter, what’s the latest?”

“Strange performed some magic stuff on him last night and again today, nearly killed himself doing it, he’s still throwing up. But he claims it’s worked, that his astral form is now back in harmony with his physical form. Or something. He’s still not awake though.”

“I wish he was.”

“Same,” she sighs. “I better call my mum, let her know what’s happened. Speak later OK?”

“Yeah sure. Everyone says hi by the way.”

“Hi back! Laters loser.”

Ned pockets his phone and rejoins the celebrations. Happy’s even popped the champagne and is distributing it to everyone - underage drinking be damned.

The cheers get louder as Pepper and the lawyers return to the Tower, walking in with beaming smiles. It’s a joyous moment, one full of relief and hope and satisfaction that justice has been done.

“You’re doing a press conference, right?” Flash asks.

“Yes we will be, I’ve scheduled it in for an hour’s time. So no more drinking OK. I want you all up there with me,” she says. “The FBI and British government will be making their statement jointly just beforehand, so I want an immediate response.”

Flash nods. “Wait, you want us up on stage with you?”

“Yes, I do. You won’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but I want you there. You’re part of this effort.”

The minute she says it, the nerves begin to set in. 

When they’d been waiting for news, time had seemed to stop dead. Now there’s something coming and it involves hundreds of cameras flashing, it’s careering towards him with all the speed of a private jet. He can feel his palms sweating, his heart pounding through his chest, his breath constricting.

“You OK Flash?” Ned asks.

“Just nervous about the press conference,” he answers between breaths.

“Thought you wanted fame? It’ll be fine don’t worry, we’ll just stand at the back. Behind Dr Banner or something.” Ned pats him on the shoulder reassuringly, but it doesn’t settle the nerves.

Before he knows it, it’s time to go in. He can hear the throng of journalists chatting among themselves, pieces to camera being recorded. He tries to remember that it’s not him talking to them, it’s Pepper, and he tries to remember that he’s not alone out there, he’s next to actual superheroes.

He, Betty and Ned follow Pepper, Sam, Clint, Bucky and Bruce into the room, which descends into a respectful hush.

It’s to Flash’s surprise when it’s not Pepper who goes to the lectern first, it’s Sam.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for joining us at this late hour to hear what we have to say.

“I’d like to start by saying how delighted we are that the authorities, both here and the UK, agreed there was not enough evidence to prosecute Spider-Man over the London drone attack. We understand they are now seeking Beck’s accomplices for arrest, and we will help them wherever we can to achieve justice.

“I’m sure you’re wondering where Spider-Man is tonight. As you know he’s not been seen since the false accusations made against him. Unfortunately, I must tell you that he is very sick, and is being cared for by a team of specialist medics. While they are confident he will recover fully, they are unable to give us a timescale on that fact. We will not be disclosing what exactly is wrong with Spider-Man, nor will we be commenting on where he is. He has already been through an incredible invasion of privacy by a certain website, and we intend to protect what little privacy he has left.

“That Spider-Man was accused of such heinous crimes is a scandal, and that anyone could believe he could commit them, an even bigger one. 

“Spider-Man is a kid. You now know this. He’s a good kid who has helped more people than you will ever realise. He played a crucial part in reversing the Snap - myself and my colleagues here can testify to that fact - and in London he was responsible for saving many lives. 

“I want to publicly state that we, the remaining Avengers, are here for Spider-Man. We stand with him now, and we will always stand with him. However, we would like to remind everyone that he is a minor, with a family and a school life and he deserves to be able to live that part of his life in peace. Please, to all you media and anyone else out there thinking of invading that privacy, don’t. Or we will have to take action. His safety and security - especially at this time and at least until he is of adult age - are of paramount importance to us. Thank you.”

Sam steps away from the lectern and Pepper takes his place.

“Thank you Sam,” she says, smiling. “Good evening. As Sam just mentioned our main priorities now are to protect Spider-Man’s privacy as a civilian, and to support him in his public life as a superhero. He is very unwell at this time, and while I am not going to disclose what is wrong with him, it is a direct result of what has happened to him in Europe and subsequently.

“We hope he will be fully recovered soon, so he can enjoy his life as an innocent young man. Which is what he is. He’s innocent, naive, and not like most teenage New Yorkers. He is a very special teenager who all of us, here at the Tower and Avengers across this planet and the universe, are very proud of. 

“We’re delighted with the judgement by the prosecutors not to proceed with this case. It was based on lies and bitter intent, by a man who used Tony’s death to try to profit from it - both financially and in notoriety. 

“I would like to show you what really happened on the walkway over Tower Bridge in London, so you can see for yourselves, the murderous intent of Quentin Beck for his own gain, and the attempts by Spider-Man to foil his plan.”

She pulls EDITH from her suit jacket pocket.

“These glasses were bequeathed to Spider-Man by Tony Stark,” a hushed murmur rises from the audience. “These glasses were given to him because they contain within them various technologies, including access to defence systems - drones - to protect Earth from what you may call, Avengers-level threats. Tony believed Spider-Man was the one to be trusted with these systems and to deal with those threats.

“Before any of you question the recklessness of my husband’s choice, you ought to remember he and Spider-Man fought together on Titan and at the Compound. Spider-Man was with him when he died. Spider-Man was considered by Tony to be nothing less than a son. He knew Spider-Man and more importantly, he trusted him.

“In retrospect, I think we can all agree - and Spider-Man would join us in this - that inheriting EDITH at 16 may have been a bit premature. However, here we are. Spider-Man was completely fooled by Beck’s story, convincing him - grooming him if you will - into the conclusion that it was Beck who could handle EDITH more responsibly. He believed he was not ready to have EDITH in his possession, just as Beck had appeared to save lives both in Venice and Prague.

“What you’re about to see is the undoctored footage and audio from what happened on the bridge, courtesy of EDITH’s data collecting protocols. When you stop seeing images and can only hear audio, that’s when the glasses are not on Beck’s face. There is a considerable amount of footage here, but all of it is relevant. We will release this footage in full to you at the end of the conference.”

The lights dim and the footage begins to play. 

You could hear a pin drop as the gunshot fires, Peter’s breath hitching. “You can’t trick me any more…”

After Peter is seen and heard ordering the drone attack to stop, the lights come back on to show a tear fall down Pepper’s face and the cameras flash in front of her to get the shot. 

Happy goes to stand in front of her as she composes herself, and ends up giving her a gentle hug. 

Eventually, she’s ready to speak.

“Apologies for that short break. I think we can all agree that was quite tough to watch,” she says. “But I think you needed to see it, to see how close Spider-Man came to die that day trying to stop the actions of a madman.

“I would like to thank the lawyers who worked so hard on this case, Princess Shuri of Wakanda for helping us with EDITH, Nick Fury and associates from SHIELD who provided evidence, an eyewitness who doesn’t wish to be named who provided vital evidence to back up EDITH’s footage, and Spider-Man’s friends who join us today - Flash Thompson, Ned Leeds and Betty Brant - as well as Michelle Jones who is currently with Spider-Man. They went above and beyond what’s normally expected of friendship to save Spider-Man’s life, and protect him when the world quite wrongly turned against him.

“We will not be taking any questions. However we will provide a further press conference when we have an update on Spider-Man’s condition. Thank you very much.”

She walks away swiftly and instinctively everyone on stage follows, despite the manic calls of a hundred journalists wanting to know more. 

“Holy crap that was intense,” Ned says as he gets through the door.

“I know right, I thought I was going to be sick, those flashbulbs hurt my eyes,” Betty says, earning her a hug from Ned. “I’m so happy for Peter, though. I wonder when he will see the conference, they said some lovely things about him.”

“Well MJ said the spiritual stuff Doc was doing is all fixed now, so maybe soon?”

“Fingers crossed. Let’s go get a drink,” Flash says, as they all head back to the common area to watch the fallout on the news channels. 

\--------------------

_“We will not be taking any questions. However we will provide a further press conference when we have an update on Spider-Man’s condition. Thank you very much.”_

May lets out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, and releases the hand she didn’t know she’d been holding as well.

MJ, sitting next to her in King T’Challa’s private quarters where he has his own cinema room, is shaking slightly. 

There’s clapping and cheering from T’Challa, Ramonda and Shuri, watching with them. “Time to celebrate!” they exclaim, reaching down from the row behind to embrace the two women before heading out to prepare for the party they intend to hold. 

“It’s all over,” MJ says numbly, still watching the screen in front. “That footage though. He was going to shoot him...”

May is still watching too, and has nothing more to add. She just looks at MJ for a time before throwing her arms around the girl. “And he says I shouldn’t worry,” she says with a sniffle. “Do you know, before he went on the trip with you he was packing and I threw a banana at him - thinking he’d catch it, cause you know, Peter Tingle. And it whacked him right in the head! He looked at me and just looked so tired, so weary. He was so exhausted that he didn’t even feel it coming. Thank God he managed to get it working again.”

“It definitely saved him,” MJ agreed, voice muffled from the embrace.

“Come on, let’s go get a drink and some food and then we can get back to Peter. Fingers crossed there’ll be some progress today.”


	23. No more than a whisper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!
> 
> Sorry for the gap, time has just flown and I can’t believe it’s been 9 days since the last update, apologies!
> 
> I’m not that happy with this chapter - but I hope you enjoy it anyways. Time for some fluff....

How long had it been since Tony Stark’s death? Nine months, he thinks absently to himself.

He remembered clearly the day he came back, just like it had been a dream. You know when you dream you’re falling and then, when you wake up its as if you had, the mattress vibrating under you? Well it was a bit like that. Only the mattress that had been beneath him the day it happened, was no longer there. The room he called his own had been turned into some kind of office, and he found himself sitting on top of a glass-topped desk. 

He had run downstairs to see if everything else had changed, and found that it had not. A man, who wasn’t his previous butler, was doing housework and looked at him, stunned. 

“Where did you come from?” He had stuttered as he looked at him and then the large family portrait hanging on the wall.

“My room,” he had said. “Well, at least it was my room. It’s an office now. Do you know my parents? Gerald and Margaret?”

“Yes, they’re both away on business.” Flash watched the man stop the vacuum cleaner and put the television on. Newscasters were reporting the arrival of The Vanished, people reappearing worldwide. It was news to Flash. All he’d known was the feeling of sleep wash over him and then the next thing, sitting on top of the desk. 

He watched the man drop the hoover and get his phone out, dialling frantically. As he heard the voice on the other line, clearly a loved one, he watched the man burst into tears.

“Excuse me sir,” he interrupted. “What’s going on?”

The man ignored him to start with but Flash had persisted. “You better sit down,” the man said.

And that was when he found out everything. The Blip, the five years in between. No one knew at that point who had brought them back. That news emerged three days later, when a distraught Pepper Potts made a statement live on CNN on a cold and rainy night. 

And how the nation mourned with her. The initial shock, the voluntary wearing of black for days on end, the sea of flowers outside Stark Tower beginning that night and eventually spilling out onto all the roads leading to the building, some stretching as far as five blocks. Vigils were held, traffic stopped, and the government announced the establishment of Tony Stark Day, a new public holiday on the anniversary of his death. And that’s not even talking about the public memorial, when millions stopped around the world to observe 3,000 seconds of silence. The world stopped for 50 minutes. Even the birds stopped singing.

Today, as he walks along Fifth Avenue, trying to enjoy some retail therapy, Flash can’t help but reminisce on those dark and sad days as he watches new, more joyous scenes, play out on the streets ahead. It had been five days since Spider-Man’s innocence was proved, and he smiles as he watches people, children right through to pensioners, show their solidarity with his friend. His friend...never thought he’d say that. 

They’re wearing t-shirts and masks, scarves and hats - young kids are wearing full fancy dress under their jackets - and souvenir stands are full of tacky merchandise from hats and statues to lollipops and mugs. Red and blue is everywhere he looks, and it’s nice.

Would be better if the little shit was awake, he thinks, as he drops into a Starbucks for a latte. He decides it’s time for a video. Pulling out his phone, he opens his facebook and gets filming.

“What’s up dorks, it’s Flash here! And today we are CELEBRATING the acquittal of my man Spidey, with a latte here on Fifth Avenue... “

He can’t help but grin broadly when he sees the viewing figures leap into the hundreds of thousands… and the comments aren’t from bots. Parker is good for something after all, he thinks.

\--------------------

It’s been another long day in Wakanda. Strange had performed the final astral realignment session earlier that day. Everything with Peter was regularly back where it should be and Shuri’s scans showed no further spikes in activity.

But it had just been another day of waiting, another day of nothing, and everyone involved in Peter’s care and vigil is now tired. Bone-deep tired.

May’s body aches, MJ can’t sleep without medical intervention, Strange is feeling constantly sick with magic and Shuri is starting to get very stressed. There’s never been a problem she hasn’t been able to fix, and yet Peter continues to be a source of frustration. 

“I don’t understand why he’s not waking up. It’s been 10 hours since Strange’s final session,” Shuri says, exasperated.

“Well he is a teenager, they are known for sleeping for long periods,” Strange says as if to make a joke but falling short, still pale from his earlier exertion and cradling a honey-infused tea.

“Peter’s sleep has been dreadful for a long time,” May says, taking Strange’s words seriously. “If everything is OK with him and he’s just resting, then I really don’t mind. MJ, let’s go get some dinner. Ramonda said she was going to try making a mac and cheese didn’t she?”

Food is the last thing MJ wants right now, but she complies anyway.

\--------------------

The first thing he feels is weight.

The weight of his body pressed into something soft beneath him, the weight of fabric across him. Everything feels heavy, as if he’d been floating in space for half a year and had returned to gravity and all the restrictions that come with it. 

The second thing he feels is cold.

There’s a breeze near his feet, and it’s tickling slightly, as well as cool enough to make him flinch. But the heaviness remains and he’s too tired to think about moving his foot somewhere warmer. He senses the goosebumps forming on his arms, coming on suddenly and feeling like tiny needles pricking his skin.

The third thing he feels is the reconnection between his body and his brain. 

His brain becoming familiar with his extremities, gingerly and slowly wiggling his fingers, rubbing the pads against the cotton beneath. The sound of his own breaths, his own heartbeat - way too loud to be normal - the itch on his scalp from unwashed hair.

Suddenly he feels a warm glow around him, and his mind tells his body to respond, to seek out the source. He tells himself it’s safe, that no harm can come from it, especially since the gentle heat accompanying the glow offered comfort against his cold arms and face. 

Slowly, and with some effort and trepidation, he opens his eyes.

\-----------------------------

As MJ and May go to leave for their necessary evil of a dinner, Strange notices a change in Peter’s vitals on the screen. Without a word he gets up and runs to the room. “Lights to 10 per cent Princess,” he says on the way out. MJ and May quickly follow as he darts towards the door. The cloak does it’s thing, lifting him up in a tried and proven routine. “Stay here,” he whispers, as the door slides open.

Strange hovers inside the room and gently creates within his hands the softest, warmest light he can muster, sending a series of tiny droplets of orange into the air besides Peter’s bed. The droplets illuminate the boy enough for Strange to see him fully for the first time. He can tell he’s coming to, and it pleases him more than anything to see the boy respond to the warm light, his eyes fluttering open.

He raises an arm weakly over his eyes, even Strange’s dim solution a bit too much, and the sorcerer responds by snuffing out the ones facing him. 

He smiles at the teen, sympathetically, and with barely a whisper, speaks. “Welcome back Peter.”

Peter flinches slightly at the sound - even to Strange it sounded loud against the complete silence around them.

“H-hey,” he whispers back, throat clearly dry from disuse.

“How do you feel?” He asks, again, trying not to hurt the boy.

“Heavy, sore?...weird dreams…”

“I’ll explain later. Would you like some water? And to see May? MJ?”

“Mmmm please. ’s loud…”

“It will be for a while,” he whispers in a low tone, as he conjures a glass of water and a straw from which Peter gratefully sips. “But it will get better soon.”

Peter nods slowly in response. 

“How is the light? Your skin?”

“Light’s ‘k...skin’s b’n worse,” he slurs. He’s suddenly so tired.

“Those are good signs, as long as you’re comfortable for now.”

“S’mthin... throat,” Peter says, as if he’s only just noticed. “Ow…”

“It’s a nasal tube to give you food Peter, we had to put it in, in the end. You’ve been out for a while.”

“How...how long?”

“Just over a week. It’s ok, don’t stress,” he adds, sensing Peter’s body tense. “Shhh now. Rest. I’ll bring May and MJ soon, ok?”

“Th’ks doc,” the teen mumbled as his eyes dropped shut once more. 

Satisfied he’s asleep, Strange quietly exits, to see May, MJ and Shuri pacing outside, expectantly. He shuts the door quietly behind him, and smiles.

“He’s just woken up.”

The collective sigh was the best sound he’d heard in a long time. “He’s exhausted, and he’s just fallen back to sleep, but I’ve promised him you can see him when he next wakes. 

“How is he?” May asks.

“He told me he’s sore, and sound is the most sensitive thing right now. He’s got some soft light in there now, and he says his skin isn’t too bad so that’s really positive. I noticed he’s quite cold as well so we’ll get the temperature up in there right away. Another 12 hours of these settings and then start reintroducing light and a bit more noise. Otherwise he’s going to find it hard to adjust back.”

“I just want to see him,” MJ says. “Can’t I sit with him, like before? I promise I won’t say anything.”

May, with tear filled eyes, looks at Strange to plead alongside her. “Can we?”

“Give him a couple of hours and then maybe we can arrange that,” he says. “I need to talk to you about volume, and tone. You wouldn’t want to hurt him now, would you?”

“Not at all Dr Strange,” May says. “Perhaps we can talk over dinner? You’ve barely eaten and you need your strength.”

“I can watch over him,” Shuri says. “Go. I’m sick of the sight of you,” she adds with a mocking smile.

Strange looks at the women and smiles as they walk towards the warmer and friendlier side of the palace, where a King and his mother wait. 

By the time they reach the dining area, Shuri has already relayed the news to her brother and mother. 

“MAY!!” Ramonda shouts as they enter the room, her joy unbridled, throwing her arms around May with all the love in the world. “I am so happy for you, and dear Peter, how is he?”

“He’s tired and sleeping again so we are going to see him later, Dr Strange saw him though and he’s more than happy with progress, so...yeah” May lets out a huge sigh. “Big relief.”

“And MJ, dear child,” Ramonda moves her hug across to the younger girl. “You are so strong for him, but you must eat, there is nothing of you! Come, come I have had a dinner made and I also tried to make this mac and cheese you speak of… no idea if it is any good but it does smell delicious.”

May is so very fond of Ramonda, her kindness, enthusiasm and exuberant nature all rolled into one. She wished she’d known her for longer, and their late nights talking about life, and bonding over motherhood, made her sure she had found a friend for life. 

On the other hand, T’Challa, to May, was such a serene being it was almost as if he was a deity. He wasn’t intimidating, as such, but she felt reverent towards him, that formality was key.

“Your majesty I must thank you again for your hospitality and your kindness to me and MJ, and especially to Peter. I fear I’ll never be able to repay you,” she says, bowing her head. 

“Nonsense, Mrs Parker. We were glad to be of help. And you must know you are all welcome here any time,” he says, smiling and putting an arm around the woman to lead her to the table.

The group sit down to eat, and find the mac and cheese is a triumph. Over food, Dr Strange instructs both May and MJ of what to expect when they go to sit with Peter. He makes them practice speaking as quietly as they can, to minimise sound as they eat, instructs them to invite Peter to touch their hands first, rather than the other way round, how to move a chair without scraping the floor. 

“It’ll only be for a day or so, I anticipate,” Strange concludes. 

MJ sets her cutlery down gently, now well practiced at minimising the noise she makes. “I want to see him now. Even if he’s asleep, I just… I need to see him.”

“I know,” May rubs her hand. “Dr Strange, can we? I’m grateful to you both-” gesturing to Ramonda and T’Challa, “-but knowing he’s down there and is now in a position to have visitors is just too much to bear. I’ve missed him so much.”

“Your majesties, if you’ll excuse us I think we need to get these ladies back to Peter.” the doctor says, standing up and bowing to the pair. 

“By all means, and do come back up when you’re ready, we can have some proper bedrooms made up for you instead of the gurneys down in the medbay. I’m sure they’re more comfortable,” T’Challa says. “I’ll bet Peter would be mortified if he found out where you’ve been attempting to rest.”

With hugs and smiles the group return back down into the bowels of the palace, back into the artificial light and views of the Vibranium mine. Strange goes into Peter’s room first, taking in two chairs for the women to sit by, before he reappears.

“While you sit with him, I’m going to go take a quick trip to New York, let everyone know the news. If anything happens, I will know, OK? Be sure of my return.” He smiles as he gently slides open the door, and the two women walk into the dim.

May holds her hand to her mouth, MJ can’t help but smile, as they see Peter there, his top half now slightly elevated, sleeping peacefully and surrounded by five or six glowing orange orbs just behind his head. He looks smaller and much thinner, but otherwise well, the dark rings under his eyes which had become part of his features since the compound battle all but gone. The only signs of any illness is the feeding tube going into his nose and the silent monitors around him.

MJ sits to his left, and May to his right, and it takes all their resolve not to touch him. However, it’s not long before he senses the two extra heartbeats in the room, and he slowly opens his eyes. He once again winces slightly at the light, before focusing and seeing his aunt’s face before him.

“May…” he croaks quietly, smiling. “You’re here.”

“I am, baby,” she whispers back, smiling, her eyes wet with tears. “Am I too loud?”

“S’ok...you ok? MJ?”

“I’m here loser,” she says from behind him. He turns so slowly to face her it’s almost painful but when he finally lays eyes on her, he gives her a smile that beats all the others she’s seen from him before. It’s fuzzy, slightly drunken almost, and so genuine she swears she can feel her heart melt.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey you,” she says, and he reaches out a hand, resting it on top of hers. The touch is more than she could ever have hoped for. “Does this hurt?,” she asks, trying not to respond too eagerly to his touch, no matter how tempting it is.

“No, it’s good. It’s the best.” He holds out an upturned palm for May as well and she gently takes it. “Missed you,” he says, eyes closing once again.

“Not as much as we missed you,” May whispers. “You sleep, OK. We’ll be right here.”


	24. Start spreading the news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter - lots of fluff for you here :)

Pepper sits on the soft quilt, and runs her hand across Morgan’s hair, marveling at her daughter’s beautiful face and how her little expressions - and her resistance to sleep - remind her of Tony.

She hates this part of the day. She’d quite easily give in every single time Morgan would say she wasn’t tired and didn’t need to sleep, because once tucked in and blissfully dreaming, the lake house was a din of silence Pepper still hadn’t gotten used to.

The nights were the worst. Sometimes she would watch TV, often she would put the radio on quietly and try to get through some work projects, but every once in a while the loneliness would eat her whole and all she wanted was to curl up in Tony’s old MIT sweatshirt, and cry until there were no more tears.

Since everything had happened with Peter, the sweatshirt nights had become more commonplace. Somehow, leaning in to the material, smelling the essence of him, helped her reconnect, and she would talk to the air around her, asking Tony - wherever he was - for guidance, forgiveness, company, advice. As if he would answer back.

“Tell me a story?” Morgan says, her adorable lisp making her irresistible to refuse.

“You’ve already had a story little miss,” she says. 

“But I want to hear a story about Petey. A funny one.”

“You can have one of those in the morning,” Pepper smiles. “You know you get too excited when I tell the funny ones.”

Morgan screws up her face and for a moment Tony is right there. Pepper sighs.

“Come on now, what would daddy say at this point?”

“That he’ll sell all my toys?”

“Quite right. And you know we always do what daddy says so if you don’t go to sleep, I’m going to have to take Barney here down to goodwill.”

Morgan clutches the purple dinosaur. “Nooo!!”

“Well then. Bedtime missy,” Pepper says, closing the door behind her. “Sleep well honey.”

She walks slowly down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaks on the third and eighth step and goes to the kitchen, making herself a cup of chamomile tea. Hopefully that would soothe her aching heart this evening.

God, it was tiring being strong for everyone else.

It’s as she’s settling herself on the couch, sweatshirt rolled up as a pillow, about to start another lonely evening of grief, that a portal appears outside the window, there’s a knock at the door and her heart fills with hope. 

“Stephen,” she says, breathlessly as she rushes to open the door. “Please tell me there’s good news.”

Strange smiles. “He woke up.”

She doesn’t even hesitate as she throws her arms around the man in front of her, releasing the tension and all the worry that had been weighing her down for weeks. “Thank you! Oh my God, thank you so much! Is he OK? How is he? Has he said anything? There’s no damage is there?”

“Woah, woah slow down Pepper, you get me one of your chamomile teas and I’ll explain.”

With Strange sitting on the couch, and not failing to notice the rolled up, faded and tear stained sweatshirt to his left, Pepper comes over with another steaming cup of tea. He explains everything, and Pepper is beyond thrilled to know he’s awake and talking with May and MJ at this very moment. 

“When do you think he’ll be up for visitors? Do Happy and Peter’s friends know?”

“I was hoping you could help me with that, could you make some calls for me? I would go and collect them all but first and foremost, I should get back in case Peter needs me, and secondly I don’t know if he’s quite ready to be bombarded by an overzealous bodyguard and three more teenagers.”

Pepper laughs. “You’re not wrong. Happy messages me every half an hour, and I’ve had to mute the group whatsapp, that Ned never shuts up does he?

“They’re good kids really. But yes, also irritating. So you’re OK to make the calls?”

“Sure. When will he be home do you think? Bring him here, won’t you? It’s quieter than the city.”

“That was my thought. See how he goes the next 24 hours, but I am hopeful we can bring him back this weekend.”

“Thank you Stephen. Thank you so much.”

“It was nothing,” he shrugs.

Pepper rolls her eyes at him. “I’m not stupid Stephen, I know what happened. May called me a couple of days ago, telling me what you’d gone through. We’re all indebted.”

“Truly, it’s fine, pain and illness are old friends now for me, it’s part of the job,” he says, and there’s a look in his eyes that tells of the sadness that goes with it. “Anyway, do you honestly think I’d leave him in the state he was in? I’ve seen many things in my short time as a sorcerer but I’ve never seen someone with such disruption before.”

There’s a sombre pause between the two.

“He’s been through a lot in his short life,” Pepper says, breaking the silence. “After Tony died, he really struggled. May and I had many late night conversations about him, what he’d experienced, how he’d ever get over it. He always put this brave face on, but I could see it, because I felt it too - the pain, the loss. But he’s never cried, not in front of me.” 

Pepper takes a breath, grips her mug tightly. “I often wondered if there would be a time when it all just caught up with him. Since I heard about what happened on his trip I just thought, that kid is a ticking time bomb. So when what happened happened, it was awful but I wasn’t surprised. It had to manifest itself in some way.”

“Yes, I suppose so. The human body is a strange thing indeed, and his is stranger. I do think going forward he’s going to have to be quite careful,” Strange says, running a shaking hand through his beard. “If this is his body’s natural response to sustained trauma, then it could happen again.”

“That’s what I worry about. Let’s both hope there’s no repeats, eh?” Pepper concludes, patting the sorcerer on the knee before getting up to collect her mobile phone from the sideboard across the room. 

“Go on, you head back and I’ll get in touch with everyone,” she says. “Thanks so much for coming by personally to see me, Stephen. You know if you ever need anything all you have to do is call?”

“I do, and thank you Pepper. I’ll see myself out, and take care OK? Don’t be lonely if you don’t want to be.”

She knows he knows, and smiles wistfully. 

As he closes the door behind him, she heads to the favourites section of her phone and dials.

“Hey Pep,” the voice says over the line. 

“Hey Hap. Got some good news for you, Peter woke up.”

“Oh really, that’s great!! Is May OK, is she with him?”

“Yeah she’s with him. Strange just came to tell me - he says they should all be home by the weekend.”

“Do they need me now? Do you need me? I can be over if you do.”

“No no, it’s fine, I’m fine and Strange doesn’t want us bombarding him so we best keep distance. I’ll need you to pick up his friends on Saturday though, that OK?”

“Absolutely. Thanks for letting me know Pep. Finally!,” he adds in relief.

“Yeah, it’s taken long enough. Time to start preparing for some kind of normal I think.”

“We’ll be there to help, you know that.”

“Thanks Hap,” she says as she ends the call. 

On to the next task, telling his friends. She unmutes the group chat, and starts typing.

**FOS Squad**  
 **Pepper** : Hey guys, is everyone around?  
 **Ned** : I am, don’t think MJ has signal  
 **Flash** : Hey Mrs Stark  
 **Betty** : Hi Mrs Stark, how are you?  
 **Pepper** : That’s OK Ned, MJ already knows ;)  
 **Ned** : WHAT?? IS PETER AWAKE?  
 **Pepper** : Yup!  
 **Flash** : YASSSSSSS  
 **Betty** : Thank GOD  
 **Ned** : ASKJHDFKHDKFJSDHFSJDFH  
 **Ned** : Is he ok?  
 **Ned** : Can I see him?  
 **Flash** : Is he like, weird or anything?  
 **Ned** : Shut up Flash. Is he OK?  
 **Pepper** : He’s doing well. Really tired but OK  
 **Flash** : How can he be tired, he’s been asleep for a week?  
 **Ned** : Flash that’s different, don’t be a dick.  
 **Ned** : So when can we see him?  
 **Pepper** : Dr Strange thinks he could be home - well I mean here - by the weekend. Are you guys free?  
 **Ned** : YES   
**Ned** : Just say when, cause I can just head up on Friday after school and wait if you want  
 **Flash** : I’m free  
 **Betty** : Me too.  
 **Pepper** : Good. I’ll get Happy to pick you guys up on Saturday morning, bring an overnight bag in case he comes back Sunday, if you don’t mind taking the sofas?  
 **Ned** : I’m cool with that. Thanks so much for letting us know Mrs Stark. Oh my god, I can’t wait until the weekend now!!  
 **Flash** : Does anyone else know?  
 **Pepper** : Not yet. Keep it quiet. I don’t want anyone knowing until he’s home and feeling 100%.   
**Flash** : Sure thing.  
 **Pepper** : Go to bed you lot. School in the morning.  
 **Betty** : Thanks Mrs Stark, night!  
 **Ned** : Night!  
 **Flash** : Sleep is for girls…  
 **Pepper** : Flash…  
 **Flash** : ;)

\-----------------

Doctor Strange returns from where he came, finding Shuri taking a well-earned break, and May and MJ sleeping next to Peter’s bed. He’s encouraged to see he’s holding both their hands, the contact not too bad for him clearly, and he’s looking relaxed in his own slumbering state. 

Silently he adds more droplets to the room, a decision he’s taken to start reintroducing light into Peter’s life slowly and in a measured way. The increase causes all three to stir.

“Hey,” Strange says, voice just above a whisper. “Just procedure, we need to start increasing the light you can tolerate.”

Peter is squinting, sleepily. “OK…” he croaks. 

“Think you can stay awake for a while?”

Peter nods and after May wearly rubs the sleep from her eyes, she raises the bed up fully so he’s in a sitting position. “Try talking normally?” he asks, groggy.

MJ looks almost scared to, and he squeezes her hand to reassure her. She gulps, lips tight. “H-hi Pete… is this too loud?”

“Bearable,” he says, still quiet himself, as if the noise from within him would be too much at this stage. “Really. Not bad.”

“I’ve been to see Pepper,” Strange says, his tone low and purring. “She’s let your friends know.”

Peter smiles. 

“Peter, we’ve been so worried about you,” May says. “And before you say you’re sorry, don’t feel bad.”

Before he has a chance to protest, two words spill from MJ’s mouth.

“What happened?”

She’s clearly been building up for this, as Peter can feel her palm become sweaty in his; he senses her nerves.

He takes a gulp, wincing at the feeling of the tube still running down the back of his throat. “I don’t know... I just remember seeing the video and not being able to move. And then it all went black.”

“Do you remember anything else, Peter?” Strange asks.

“The feeling of falling, a lot. Being thrown around, like being on a rollercoaster and never being able to get off. It was so tiring. And sorta painful... I couldn’t say where or how much.” He gulped again. “Was weird.”

Strange just nods in affirmation. “When you’re feeling a bit better, maybe tomorrow, I’ll explain everything.”

Peter’s head plops back onto his pillow, already exhausted by the effort of conversation. “Doc, when can this weird tube thing come out? I don’t like it.”

“I can do that now for you, if you aren’t feeling too sensitive?”

May squeezes his hand ever so gently and smiles when he doesn’t flinch. “I think I can do it,” he says. 

The procedure is quick and easy but not at all fun for Peter as the feeling of the tube leaving his body leaves him feeling nauseous. He grips May and MJs hands tight to anchor him, grateful for their presence.

“Well done kiddo,” May says, as Strange takes away the offending tube. “Now, what will you want for your first meal?”

“I really want mac and cheese, randomly” he says, eliciting a smile from both women. 

“Funny you should say that,” MJ says. “I’ll go put an order in.”


	25. Breakfast with a side of truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... here's some tooth-rotting fluff for you. I just wanted to start wrapping this up with a little bit of loveliness where Peter comes to learn what he means to his fellow Avengers. Not to mention I also love Doctor Strange and I wanted to give him a bit more air time lol.
> 
> PS I did a little research on traditional African food... hopefully I've described the dishes correctly!
> 
> And...we're wrapping things up, one more chapter after this and then we're done!

He stands there, in awe, drinking in what’s in front of him.

The African morning has broken and from the palace balcony he watches the sun rise, high-rise buildings silhouetted in front of a beautiful orange sky. The warmth hits his face and for the first time in a long time, he feels peace. He smiles, and closes his eyes, breathing in the warm air, listening to the sounds of the birds flying overhead and the market bustle beneath. It was a long way from the New York, but he hoped this would not be the last time he visited Wakanda.

“Morning champ,” May says as she stands beside him. “What a view, wow. Maybe our new friends will let us take a holiday here some time, the vitamin D would do wonders.”

“I’d like that,” he says. “I haven’t really seen much of it.”

May rubs his arm. “You will. You OK kiddo?”

“Yeah...yeah I’m good, truly” he smiles. It’s been three days since he woke up, and today would be the day he’d finally get to go home, Doctor Strange having cleared him the night before. 

“I think this has been the scariest time of my life” May admits, breaking the quiet moment between them. “How close I came to losing you, first in London and now this…I...I just….” She stops as she begins to cry.

Peter pulls her in for a hug and allows a tear to fall himself. “I’m sorry I put you through this. I never thought it would happen.”

“I know baby.” She sniffles into his t-shirt. “It’s not your fault either, so no more apologies young man.”

Peter laughs as he holds his aunt, and over her shoulder he sees her. Bathed in warm light, her hair soft around her face, her brown eyes almost lit golden by the sunshine. She’s leaning against the doorframe, a broad smile on her face, accentuating rosy cheeks and never looking more beautiful. He reaches a hand out, and she walks over to receive it. 

“Hey Tiger,” she says, and May takes this as her cue to quietly depart, a rub on Peter’s shoulder before she leaves. 

MJ takes May’s place in Peter’s embrace and he plants a kiss on her forehead. “You OK?” she asks. 

“Never better,” he responds with a smile, burying his face in her hair and taking in her scent. “I’m so sorry MJ,” he adds quietly.

“Sorry for what? For being my slightly malfunctioning but ultimately brilliant superhero boyfriend? Cause I’m pretty sure I didn’t sign up for that under duress.”

“I know but I just feel so bad for putting you through everything. These last couple of weeks haven’t been easy, I know that.”

“Just shut up loser and kiss me,” she says and he doesn’t hesitate in sweeping her off her feet and kissing her more passionately than he ever has before. 

Their romance is broken by May walking back out and spotting them. “Oh! Oh i’m sorry I’ll just go-”

“What’s up?” Peter asks, still holding onto his girl, MJ wrapped around him as if he was about to swing her through the city.

“Oh, just… yeah, breakfast is ready,” she says, floundering. “They’ve put on quite a feast!”

Peter and MJ gladly follow May into the expansive dining area where Ramonda, together with T’Challa, Shuri and four assistants, come in each holding a tray or bowl of food, all of which smell amazing. 

Peter hears his stomach audibly respond to the scent, and everyone else hears it too, causing him to blush. “Super fast metabolism is a bitch,” he mumbles, before taking a seat and pouring himself and everyone else a cup of his new favourite tea.

“Here child, try this,” Ramonda says, appearing over his shoulder with a dish and a giant ladle. Contained within is a sort of custard, which he is informed is made from corn, before a few large deep fried nuggets are dumped in the middle. “Akara,” she says. “It’s savoury, try it, you are going to love this!”

They all dig in and find it’s delicious, rich and filling and spicy, but not too hot, and MJ asks for the recipe to take home. Next up is a massive fresh fruit platter before a tray of local bread appears, together with rice and beans, stews, egg dishes and delicious donuts made with coconut. 

“Thank you for having me and for taking care of me,” Peter says, keen to show his gratitude to his Wakandan hosts. 

“Dear boy you are welcome here anytime you wish,” Ramonda says, speaking over her son. “I know what you did for T’Challa. We can never repay you for that.”

May and MJ, almost in tandem, look over to Peter, and then back to Ramonda, confused. Doctor Strange solemnly looks down into his lap.

“Peter, you took the gauntlet from me at the compound, got it to safety, and allowed me to escape an inevitable death from one of Thanos’s so-called children,” T’Challa says, sombrely. “Had you not been there, the course of events would have taken a very grave turn.”

“We all played our part,” Peter says. “There is no need to thank me.”

“There is, and you’ll accept my thanks,” the King says, with a wink. “Seriously though, we are all Avengers now, and we help our own. We’re so glad we were able to assist you in your time of need.”

Peter is blown away by the sentiment and nods graciously. He didn’t think what he had done at the compound was valiant or brave. He was just doing his job, trying to bring back his neighbourhood, trying to help Mr Stark. 

Doctor Strange looks at him intently. He doesn’t look at anyone any other way. Always intently. It makes Peter shift in his seat nervously. 

“Mr Parker, you and I haven’t spoken in great detail about what happened that day. I feel now is a good time to clear the air.”

Peter throws a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of another room, feeling an ever greater sense of dread. “You want to go somewhere private?”

“No. Nothing I say here needs to be concealed. In fact I feel it’s important for everyone present to know.”

“Ok…” Peter sips his tea, apprehensive.

“When I was recalibrating your astral form, it struck me how much of an immense guilt you feel, it weighs heavy on you. You carry it, like a boulder on your back.”

“I...I don’t feel guilty.”

“Yes, you do. You feel like you should have saved your uncle. You feel you should have put on that gauntlet. You feel like you should have snapped those fingers, not Tony.”

Peter hangs his head down, unable to deny what the older man is saying. 

“You must realise it had to end the way it did.”

MJ takes a deep breath, and May grips her hand in support.

“No it didn’t,” Peter says quietly. “I...I don’t understand why it had to be him.”

“You are a clever young man, but you let your emotions get in the way of rational thought. Consider Titan. What happened? At the end?”

“You gave away the stone. We lost. We turned to dust.”

“Before that.”

Strange looked at Peter with a different kind of intent, one laced with sympathy and regret. 

“I almost got the gauntlet, and then Mr Star-Lord punched Thanos and he got angry and knocked us all out cold and then when I woke up I saw Mr Stark get stabbed...”

“And what did I say to Tony on, as he so eloquently put it, the ‘flying donut’?”

“That you wouldn’t give away the stone, that me and him would both have to die before that happened.”

“So why do you think I gave away the stone when you were still alive and Tony had been stabbed?”

Peter was beyond confused, in fact everyone else around the table - sitting silently transfixed on the conversation - couldn’t anticipate what was to come.

“Peter, I had seen all the outcomes. Tony’s death - the only time we won - was the first outcome I saw on my journey. I searched through every future I could, all 14 million of them, and I felt the death and the anguish and the destruction in each eventuality, trying to seek an alternative. But the only one which ended in our salvation was through his sacrifice. 

“When he was stabbed, I had to ensure he had the chance to heal himself and get home because it had to be him, for unbeknown to him it was his destiny. We had to lose to win - in every sense of the word. I’m sorry it had to be that way. It pains me daily that it was - how I wish there was an alternative, how I wish I’d been strong enough to search further.

“Peter I need you to let go of the guilt you feel. After treating you once, I know it’ll affect your future health if you don’t.”

Peter doesn’t really know what to say. He can feel the tears well in his eyes, realising that the man who mentored him through the first years of his superhero life, the man who turned back time to save him, had been destined to leave him just like Ben had, just like his parents had. 

It almost feels like, if he lets go of the guilt, he’d have to let go of Mr Stark entirely. And he isn’t sure he’s ready for that. 

MJ rests a hand on his thigh, rubs it gently in reassurance. 

The sorcerer smiles at him. “Peter your destiny is so bright. Since I became a sorcerer I’ve never been able to use my magic for healing until now, and being able to treat you taught me far more than I ever realised it would. I didn’t just learn to help others with my magic, but I also probably know you better than you know yourself.”

“Well… that’s kinda weird, Doc.”

“Maybe, but it allowed me to see you for who you truly are, and who you will become. Your spirit is unlike any other I have ever encountered, both when it’s malfunctioning and when it’s healthy. You are the true embodiment of selflessness and yes, life hasn’t necessarily been kind to you. 

“Never forget who you are, Peter Parker, never let guilt, negativity or the trauma of what’s happened to you dull your spirit. And if you can do that, your future is going to be just fine.”

Peter feels the blush rising in his cheeks, the embarrassment of not knowing what to do with that information, seeing as it was, frankly, the nicest thing anyone has ever said about him, to his actual face.

“Um… thank you,” he utters, gripping MJ’s hand beneath the table. “I will do my best, sir.”

“Make sure you do, Peter. We will be working together a lot in the future I’ve seen for you. So, as I said, spirits up. Maybe keep the wisecracks down. I am not very tolerant.”

“Noted,” he nods with a smile before noticing sniffles across the table. Looking to his right, he sees both May and MJ, tightly gripping hands and wiping away tears. “Don’t cry,” he says to them both. “Doc says everything is going to be OK, right?”

“I know, Pete,” May says. “I’m so very proud of you. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do May. I really do.”

The moment is broken when Strange slaps his hands on his knees, clearly deciding there had been enough sentiment for one day.

“On that note, our time here is now done,” he bows to T’Challa, Shuri and Ramonda. “We cannot thank you enough for your hospitality, but alas we cannot stay forever. Especially since Pepper, Happy and your friends are waiting, Peter Parker.”

It’s almost too much for Peter to consider, too exciting to even contemplate. He rises from his seat, stomach flipping, with May and MJ following. 

Ramonda stands there with her arms open and cries as she hugs them goodbye. T’Challa remains stoic, but the warm smile on his face tells Peter all he needs to know, while Shuri waits patiently to the end.

“See you later, Spider-boy,” she teases.

He smiles and hugs her tight. “Thank you, for everything. And keep in touch yeah? I want to talk to you more about my webbing, we never did put together those prototypes, did we?”

“Absolutely, I’ll whatsapp you,” she says, smiling. 

As he goes in for one more hug of thanks, he feels the warm glow of a portal behind him. He turns around, takes MJ’s hand, and through the gap he sees it. 

A calm lake, twinkling against the sunlight, a breeze rattling through the reddened leaves on the trees, a small tent with an overturned chair outside it and in the distance, large wooden building with a welcoming porch, from which he sees the door open and familiar faces rush towards him.

It’s time to go home.


	26. Epilogue...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....this is it! The final part.
> 
> Feels quite sad to be wrapping this up, but I really really enjoyed writing it and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it too :)

“Bonjour Flashmob! We’re here in Paris with my boys Ned and Peter, and my homegirls MJ and Betty - and of course head honcho Happy here! In today’s activities we’re off to see Napoleon’s tomb and we’re gonna hit the shops and spend some serious Euro! Let’s go!” 

Flash thrusts his phone in front of his friends, spinning around so fast he knows he’ll give his viewers whiplash but knowing they won’t be able to exactly pinpoint where they are in the French capital. He’d learned all the tricks to stop people tracking them down, and seeing as his videos featuring his new bestie, Spider-man, always got the most views, it made sense. 

It had been a few months since their doomed school trip, Peter’s dreaded identity reveal and his framing for mass murder by Quentin Beck. Peter had made a full recovery and despite everything that had happened, he insisted on returning to duty as soon as he was physically able, to the absolute joy of New Yorkers.

But now, it was time for Peter and his friends to have the holiday they deserved. Pepper insisted on paying for the whole thing, the private jet to Paris, and three nights in a five-star hotel right on the Champs Elysees. The city was wrapped up ready for winter, the streets covered in golden leaves from the trees, and a cold wind biting round the corners. 

Flash insisted on leading the whistlestop tour, knowing a few cool hidden gems for dinner and taking them to the Palais Garnier - not for an opera but just for a tour. He’d been livestreaming sections of the trip, but everyone had noted that he wasn’t glued to his phone half as much as he had been.

They’re walking across the concourse at the Louvre, Happy enjoying what Tony would have called a “loose follow” so he could call May, when he’s confronted about it.

“Hey Flash you’re not livestreaming this, I’m surprised,” Ned says. 

“Yeah, well, not everyone has to see what we’re doing all the time, do they?”

“No, not at all.” MJ smiles. “Aren’t you scared of losing your precious followers?”

“Gotta be honest, I’m not that bothered,” he admits, hands in pockets. “Don’t get me wrong, I like doing it still but it’s not the be all and end all. Got everything I need here. Plus I like living in the moment a bit more....”

“You sure do,” Ned says, smiling. 

Flash looks back at his new group of friends. This is the best vacation ever. 

\-------------

It’s night-time in Paris and the city is awash with twinkling lights, illuminating the elaborate grid of streets and boulevards for miles to see. Tonight, it’s just him and her. Just the way he’d planned all those months ago. She’s wearing her broken necklace, and he’s given her his beanie hat to keep her warm.

“It’s beautiful,” he says, arms wrapped around her to keep her back warm from the biting wind. He’s freezing, but he doesn’t care. 

“You’re cold, Peter, I can feel it.”

“It’s fine. It’s perfect.”

“Well,” she turns round to face him, rosy cheeked and slightly teary-eyed from the cold air. “I gotta admit the view is everything I hoped it’d be.”

“Same. Five stars on tripadvisor for sure,” he winks and kisses her tenderly. “I’d suggest a crepe and a hot chocolate from the cafe but it’s shut. Sorry about that.”

“Well you did insist on waking me up at 2am so we could avoid the crowds.”

“Worth it though.”

“Oh absolutely. The webs will be gone by the morning, won’t they?”

“Sure! They dissolve after two hours.”

She nods her head before snuggling into his shearling coat. “Thank you Peter.”

“Anything for you MJ,” he says, kissing the top of her head. 

“Shall we go back to bed? Maybe come back tomorrow in the sunshine?”

“What the girl wants, the girl gets,” he says with a smile. The descent from the top of the tower takes only a few seconds, Peter’s webbing holding the pair tightly as they steadily dropped the 906ft to the solid ground beneath them. 

“I know I never said I would do that again,” she says as they walk back towards their hotel. “But I have to admit - that was pretty awesome.”


End file.
